Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith
by Kal Shaka Mel
Summary: What happens when Harry is raised as a Sith? How will Dumbledore react to this darker version of the Boy-Who-Lived? How will Hogwarts react? How will the Wizarding World react? Look out world, hell is coming! Dark!Harry, Independent!Harry, Powerful!Harry, Evil!Harry. Sexual content. Pairings undecided. Chapter 5 edited
1. Prologue

_**AN**_:

Author: Hey, people. Kal here.

Deadpool: And Deadpool! Don't forget Deadpool!

Author: *sigh* Deadpool, you're not even going to _be_ in this story.

Deadpool: Aww, come on! Just a small role? A cameo? A small wave 'hello' to the audience?

Author: No.

Deadpool: I know! I can play Dumbledore! No one will notice! I've been practicing my old-man-meddling skills!

Author: No, Deadpool. Richard Harris agreed to come back from the dead to play Dumbledore for Harry's first two years at Hogwarts, after which he'll die again and Michael Gambon will take the role.

Deadpool: *old man voice* Is that so, young author? Are you sure? *eye twinkle*

Author: Nice eye twinkle, but the answer's the same.

Deadpool: Damn you, Richard Harris and slash Michael Gambon!

Author: Now, if you're done fucking around… *turns to readers* Sorry about that. Since this is already taking too long, I'll just get on with it. I don't own anything, and I make no money from writing this. This story will contain several things that may offend people with small minds, so if that's you, fuck off.

Deadpool: Yeah, fuck off small minded assholes!

Author: … Thank you, Deadpool. Now, as I'm wont to say, enjoy or suffer!

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Prologue: The Boy-Who-Lived**

_**November 1**__**st**__**, 1981, 1:17 am**_

_**Privet Dr., Little Whinging, Surry, UK**_

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could only just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. (*)

However, Dumbledore and his companions hadn't been the only ones on the street that night. Slowly, a robed and hooded figure melted out of the shadows. Once fully physical again, the figure walked over to the small bundle and picked it up.

"Alas, little one," the figure spoke, revealing an elderly female voice, "You have a hard destiny ahead of you. Living here would make you good-hearted, as the fool wanted, but it would also make you weak. Much rests on you, and you cannot afford to be weak. No, you must be strong. We will teach you. I'm sure Valarius won't mind setting up a small Academy branch on this world. Very remote. Yes, I see much in your future. Wonderful darkness now prevails in it. Come, little one. Let us leave this repulsive place. Your destiny awaits."

With that, the woman walked away carrying young Harry Potter, and once again melted into the night.

_**November 3**__**rd**__**, 1981, 12:30 pm**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office**_

Dumbledore was concerned. He moved around his office looking and poking at various little doodads and whatsits, trying to get reactions from them. Unfortunately they weren't working. Some hadn't even started working where they should have, and some that were working suddenly stopped. This wasn't good.

All of the instruments he was poking around with were keyed to one person in particular: Harry Potter. They all should be working fine, with him safe at his relatives, each giving readings (in their own unique way) about his status and the status of the wards around the house. Unfortunately the wards didn't seem to have activated, and the ones monitoring him weren't working either. It wasn't that he was dead; the instruments would have reported that; it was that they stopped working entirely.

Dumbledore frowned, poking yet another useless doodad (it was supposed to show the status of Harry's magical core: three green puffs of smoke meant his core was healthy, two yellow puffs meant it was half depleted, one red puff meant nearly empty, and one continuous stream of black meant it was completely empty, rendering him a squib). No response.

Standing up straight, Dumbledore decided he would have to go to Privet Dr. himself to see if something had gone wrong.

With a quick turn on his heel, he was gone.

_**Privet Dr., Little Whinging, Surry, UK**_

Dumbledore reappeared on the corner of Privet Drive and began walking towards number four; either ignoring or not noticing the stares he was getting for his odd clothes. As he neared the house, he tried to get a feel for the status of the wards, only to find, to his shock, that there were none.

Dumbledore walked up and knocked on the door four times, trying to figure out what could possibly have gone wrong.

When Petunia Dursley opened the door and saw who it was, her eyes widened in anger and fear.

"_What are you doing here?_" she hissed at him, glancing around nervously, seeing the staring neighbors. "_What do you want?_"

"Ah, I was just wondering how Harry was fitting in, you see," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"Who?" Petunia asked, momentarily forgetting her anger. "Who are you talking about?"

"Harry Potter," he said, confused. "Your nephew."

"Why would that freak be here?" Petunia demanded. "You would think my 'perfect' sister would look after her own child!"

Dumbledore frowned at her. Hadn't she read his note?

"Your sister and her husband are dead, Petunia," he said slowly. "They died Halloween night. I brought young Harry here and placed him on your doorstep with a note that very night. Surely, you couldn't have missed that!"

"I'll have you know that there were no babies on my doorstep at all, ever," Petunia snapped. "As for my sister being dead, good riddance to bad rubbish I say!" With that, she slammed the door so hard, if he hadn't backed away in time his nose would have been even more crooked.

Dumbledore stared at the door in shock and horror as realization flooded him. Someone must have taken young Harry that very night. He had assumed that there wouldn't be any muggles out that night, and no other magicals would be in the area, or so he thought. Obviously he was wrong.

Quickly apparating to a secluded area, he began casting several locating and finding spells, not all of them completely legal, but this was desperate. Unfortunately, it was useless. All of his spells came up with nothing, as though Harry didn't exist.

Dumbledore then apparated to his office and walked over to his familiar, Fawkes.

"My friend," he said. "I need your help. I need you to flame travel me to Harry Potter's location."

'_Very well, old friend,_' Fawkes sent. Being Dumbledore's familiar as well as being a naturally magical creature, Fawkes was able to speak mentally with Dumbledore.

Fawkes flew over and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder and prepared to travel. Small flames flicked over his wings as he concentrated, then Fawkes gave a rather undignified squawk.

'_I can't get to him,_' Fawkes said, alarmed. '_It's like something is blocking me!_'

Dumbledore frowned. "Blocking you?" he asked. "No one knows how to block phoenix travel, not even me!"

'_Well apparently _someone_ does,_' Fawkes retorted, flying back to his perch.

"Can you at least tell if he's alive?" Dumbledore asked, desperate.

'_Yes,_' Fawkes replied, happy to give his friend some good news. '_I was able to sense him, but I couldn't get to him, nor can I tell where he is. I'm sorry._' Fawkes then glared slightly at Dumbledore. '_You could have just checked the school registry to confirm that he's alive, you know. You didn't have to ask me._'

Dumbledore's eyes widened as he realized this, and rushed over to do just that, leaving a grumbling phoenix behind.

When he reached said book, he quickly turned it to _First Years for 1991_. A quick skim settled his nerves somewhat, as he saw _Harry James Potter_ written clear as day. If he had died, his name would have vanished from the book. Whatever was blocking his instruments seemed to have not effected the ancient magic of the book.

Relieved that he was at least alive, Dumbledore resigned himself to having to wait 10 years to know the boy's location, when the letter system would automatically write down his address on his acceptance letter. He made up his mind that he would deliver the letter himself, to make sure that young Harry was safe.

Not that he would be idle until then. No, he fully intended to try and find the boy before then, but he doubted he would succeed. Still, he had to try.

(*) Taken from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Chapter 1: The Boy-Who-Lived_

_**AN**_:

Author: Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Want to gauge your eyes out? If any of these are true, please leave a review, and please, no flames! If you flame, I'll have Deadpool cut you into tiny pieces and feed to his dog.

Deadpool: *praying* Pleaseflamepleaseflamepleaseflamepleaseflame…

Author: *sigh* Just so you guys know, the title may change. If you have any ideas, leave them in a review or pm me. I'm always open to suggestions. Also, I know it's short, but it's just a prologue. The real chapters should be much longer (hopefully). See you guys next time!

Deadpool: *still praying* Pleaseflamepleaseflamepleaseflamepleaseflame…

Author: *sigh*


	2. Meeting the Sith

_**AN**_:

Deadpool: Wow, it didn't take you long to update, did it?

Author: Nope. I was on a role. I might be able to post a few more chapters soon, but then they'll be more spread out, and less frequent as life gets in the way.

Deadpool: I hate it when life does that. I prefer Death. She's such a babe.

Author: *sigh* Idiot. As usual people, I own nothing and I make no money from this. As usual-

Deadpool: Ooo, can I say it this time?

Author: Will you shut up afterwards?

Deadpool: Yep!

Author: Fine.

Deadpool: Great! Now, as he was about to say, enjoy the sensual pleasures of this story or suffer the eternal torments of Hell!

Author: … Idiot.

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Chapter 1: Meeting the Sith**

_**July 24**__**th**__**, 1991, 8:28 am**_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Owlery**_

It was time. 10 years he had waited, and all his attempts to find Harry sooner had failed. Now he would now exactly where to find him.

He pulled his wand out, and with a silent _Accio_, summoned Harry's letter to him, causing the owl who was about to take it to hoot indignantly.

"I'll be delivering this letter myself, thank you," said Dumbledore kindly, his eyes twinkling. The owl glared at him disdainfully, as though doubting his ability to deliver a letter adequately. The owl then grabbed another letter and took off.

Sighing at the pride of owls, he looked at the letter and frowned at the address.

_Mr. H Potter_

_Dorm 1, Room 15_

_Sith Acadamy_

_Taransay_

_Scotland_

'_Sith Acadamy?'_ he wondered. '_I've never heard of such a place. But it doesn't sound good._'

With an air of resignation, Dumbledore walked to his office, where he showed the letter to Fawkes.

'_I can't take you directly there,_' Fawkes said after a moment. '_But I can get you close._'

"As close as you can get me will be fine," Dumbledore replied, holding out his arm for Fawkes to land on, which he did. In a flash of flames, they were gone.

_**Taransay, Scotland**_

Dumbledore looked around. The area was barren, and a harsh cold wind blew. For a moment, Dumbledore thought Fawkes had taken him to the wrong place…

That is, until he felt it. A few yards ahead, there was a massive presence of magic, likely hiding the 'Academy' from prying eyes.

Dumbledore winced. The amount of darkness present was enough to make him want to leave right then. Nervously, he looked at Fawkes.

The phoenix's head was bowed, and his color was fading. In moments, he had gone from being perfectly healthy, to looking like he was about to have an early burning day right on Dumbledore's arm. As a light creature, the phoenix was having an extreme negative reaction to the intense darkness.

'_This is why I couldn't reach him,_' Fawkes said weakly. '_The darkness here is too powerful._'

"Go home, my friend," Dumbledore said, concerned. "I can get back on my own. You go rest."

With gratitude, Fawkes flamed away, leaving Dumbledore to the task at hand. The old wizard frowned as he walked briskly forward, silently casting warming charms on himself.

After a few moments, he reached what he assumed was the outer edge of the wards. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, he walked through…

And then stared.

Before him stood a massive temple-like structure made of some sort of black, red, and grey metal. It was easily twice the size of Hogwarts, and that, plus the almost overwhelming presence of dark energy, caused fear to well up inside him. Harry Potter was _here_? Then he noticed a figure walking towards him.

It looked like a young male youth, maybe 19 years old. He wore a tight black robe with a black armor chest guard, and a black hood. At his belt hung a long silver tube with flat ends, and prongs encircling the ends. But it was his appearance that startled Dumbledore. He was bald, with unnaturally pale skin, with dark areas around his beat-red eyes and at the corners of his mouth.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he man asked, his voice smooth and cold. Dumbledore nodded. "Come with me. Darth Veritas has been expecting you."

As he followed, he was able to look at the other 'students'. Some looked similar to his guide, some looked more normal. But there were other beings there that drew his attention: human looking men and women with red skin and eyes ranging from red to gold. That some of the male ones had small tendrils protruding from their faces in a similar fashion to mustaches or beards, cemented the fact that they weren't human. There were other species as well, fewer than the other two by far, some even more jarring physically than the red skinned creatures.

He then noticed something else. The technology at use here was far beyond what contemporary muggles had available to them. This was only compounded when he saw a large craft rise from some sort of landing platform and fly off into the air, going straight up.

The inside was no less incredible. Statues were along the walls of every hall. Some doors had some sort of colored transparent field covering them.

His guide led Dumbledore to what he assumed was the living area. The man stepped up to one of the doors and raised his hand to knock, only for the door to slide open before he could.

"Come in," an old woman's voice came from the room. Stepping in after his guide, Dumbledore looked around the room. Bookshelves, display cases with various unidentifiable objects, and other items covered the walls. A door stood on the left wall, likely leading to the sleeping area, as no bed was visible. Across from the door, a fireplace with two large chairs in front of it roared, its flames changing colors.

Seated at one of the chairs was a hooded figure, though Dumbledore couldn't see them well because the chair's back was to them.

"Have a seat, Albus Dumbledore," the old woman said, gesturing to the other chair. "Leave us, Acolyte."

"Yes, my Lord," the man said reverently, bowing low, before turning and leaving.

Dumbledore walked over and sat at the chair, taking a moment to look at his host. Her skin was dark grey with black lips. Her hair was the same color as her skin and fell over her shoulders, bound with black bands. She wore a heavy black cloak with a hood over her head, covering the top half of her head.

"I never liked Acolyte Kayn," she said idly. "Sure, he's given himself to the Dark Side more than almost anyone of his status, but he is spineless. It is such a relief to know he'll be dead tomorrow."

"He's going to die?" asked Dumbledore, shocked. Was that why he looked so pale? He was sick?

"Yes," she said. "He is about to leave to go on one of his trials and one of the younger acolytes will kill him and complete it instead. Trials are where the normal Academy rules are waived, you see. The acolyte who kills him will take the apprenticeship Kayn is vying for. But never mind that," she said. "I am Darth Veritas."

"A pleasure," Dumbledore responded, though he was startled by how lax she was in regards to one of her students' safety. "I am-"

"Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Veritas interrupted. "Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamont. Yes, I know who you are, and why you are here." She tilted her head. "Though whether you will accomplish what you seek to is unknown. So many possibilities."

Dumbledore was startled, but hid it. Who was this woman?

"I am looking for Harry Potter," he said finally, deciding to get to the point.

"He is about to leave to complete his final trial as an acolyte," she said. "He should return sometime tomorrow after the completion of his trial."

"What is this place?" Dumbledore couldn't help but ask.

"It is a branch of the Sith Academy," she stated. "I will tell you no more than that for now." She stood up. "Come with me. The Academy Master, Darth Valarius, wishes to speak with you."

When they reached the Academy Master's chambers, Veritas paused.

"Before we enter, there are some things you should know," she said. "First of all, Darth Valarius sees no point in sending Acolyte Potter to your school. It is his belief that you and your school are a threat. That said," she turned to him. "Valarius has practically raised Acolyte Potter since I brought him here 10 years ago. Now, I have convinced him to not level your school to the ground, but he is still not keen to send the boy there. Watch what you say, as Potter's attendance may hinge on how you present yourself and your school." With that, the two of them walked in.

The room was large and sparse, with statues of hooded figures in the corners, and red banners with a hexagonal symbol. At the far wall was a large desk with a few chairs in front of it. Sitting behind it was one of the red creatures Dumbledore had seen before. His skin was red as blood, his eyes more so. He had pure black hair slicked back, and two tendrils on either side of his nose, forming a sort of Fu Manchu mustache.

"Labintias, seniai draugas," Veritas said as she stood before the desk, bowing her head slightly. "Nu nesti mokestros."

Valarius scowled at Dumbledore before gesturing to the seats before him. At that moment, the door opened again, and a female of Valarius's species walked in. She had sharp features and a cruel gleam in her crimson eyes.

"Ah, Urvaz Saeva. Liamin j'us aras griztumas mus," Valarius said to the newcomer, before turning back to Dumbledore. "This is Darth Saeva," he said in English. "She will be joining us for this discussion. Now, I want you to tell me about your institute. What are its rules, what does it teach, and why Acolyte Potter should attend. You have one hour."

And so Dumbledore spent the next hour telling all he knew about Hogwarts to the three listeners (though he doubted Veritas was listening, as she seemed to sink into some sort of trance). Never before had he had to do this. Normally Professor McGonagall did this, but he doubted she ever had such high stakes as this. He just had to get Harry at Hogwarts. Once there, he could start veering him towards the light, where he belonged. When he finished, the three Darths sat and thought on it.

"Kodel galetis mes zudyti jis?" Saeva asked after a moment. "Kam tym byloti galeji buti tiesa! Magic! Apgaule!"

"Zhol kash tiesa," Veritas said, causing Saeva to look shocked. "Tau elgtis tave qyâsik hevilasis sulig mus. Naugast…"

"Mazo, kodel aras mes stai?" Saevo asked.

"Mes aras stai kia byloti lig Kissai Potter klausima sis aikste iv mokslas," Valarius responded. "Vi jiso ateitis meistras, kam dary j'us minti?"

Saeva thought for a moment, before turning to Veritas.

"Kash antai jok fliusas kia jis klausima?" Saeva asked.

"Xaz," Veritas replied. "Kaitas dar nors antai kash jri fliusas tym gal tezn vi duobe' sotus jiso visitina lauke klausima. Zhol kash tu'iea siurk."

Saeva was silent as she thought. After a moment, she turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor, if Acolyte Potter is to attend your school, conditions must be met," she said to him, causing him to frown. "When he returns from his trial, he will become my apprentice. While he is at your school, his Sith training will continue. I will not have him degenerating." Dumbledore frowned but nodded. "Second, at several points during his training, he will be required to leave your campus to complete missions of various types. You will allow this and make the needed adjustments to his assignments. I assure you, he will not fall behind," she added, seeing his frown deepen. "Finally, he is to be given his own room. This is so that any night training he does doesn't disturb his fellow students."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sure that can be arranged," he conceded.

"Now that that's settled," Valarius said, not entirely happy, "where will we obtain his supplies? I assume there is a place we need to go."

"Yes, Diagon Ally," Dumbledore said, ignoring the snicker from Saeva. "If you like, one of my professors, Professor McGonagall, has a date where she takes muggleborn students to Diagon Ally to obtain their supplies. I can ask her to add Harry's name to the list and you can meet her outside the entrance."

The Sith had a brief conversation over this, and then nodded their consent.

"Very well, I shall inform her. Now if that is all," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. "I had best be off. The entrance to Diagon Ally is a place called The Leaky Cauldron, on Charing Cross Road in London. I trust you can find it? If not, we can determine another location for Professor McGonagall to collect you."

"We will be able to find it, zioplys," Saeva sneered.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, ignoring the confusing word.

Valarius pressed a button on his desk and seconds later a green skinned humanoid with no hair and two large tendrils growing from the back of his head walked in.

"Tarion here will escort you to the border of the Academy, where you may safely return to your school," Valarius said.

"Thank you, and good day," Dumbledore said, nodding to each of them before leaving.

"I still think we should have killed him," Saeva said when he was gone. "He's a fool. A fool steeped in light, too."

"He still has his uses," Veritas said mildly. "Once those uses cease, then you may kill him. Until then, show restraint."

"Very well," Saeva sighed, standing up. "I'd better go. I need to work on my illusions so I don't stick out when we leave."

When she was gone, the two old Sith sat in silence.

"What have you seen," Valarius asked after a moment.

"Many things," Veritas replied cryptically.

"Damn it, Veritas, tell me!"

"Knowing the future is dangerous, Valarius," she said coldly. "You of all people should know that. Foreknowledge comes with a price. Are you willing to pay it? Last time it was your birth son, what will it be now? Your wife? Daughter?"

"Enough," Valarius snapped. "I get it. But is there anything you _can_ tell me?"

For a moment Veritas was silent.

"A man with a turban holds a dark secret," she said at last. "And the red stone would be an invaluable asset. That is all I can say."

With that, the woman stood, bowed her head, and left, leaving Valarius to ponder her words.

"Damn woman," he muttered.

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office**_

Dumbledore went over the meeting with the Sith in his mind. Many things he had seen and heard troubled him. What would Harry be like after living in such an environment? The aged headmaster hoped the boy had inherited the kindness of his parents. However, there would be no doubt that darkness will have tainted him. Dumbledore would have to work extra hard at guiding the young boy.

After all, it wouldn't do for the Wizarding World's savior to be dark, now would it? If need be, Dumbledore would have to take extreme measures to ensure the boy came to the light and under his wing.

It was for the greater good, after all.

_**AN**_

Author: What? No Harry this chapter? Well don't worry. From now on, we'll no longer be following our esteemed meddler, and will now follow our "hero". Now you're probably wondering what language that was that the Sith suddenly started speaking. Well, that's actually the language of the Sith. I'm not going to provide translations for you, so you'll have to figure it out for yourselves.

Deadpool: Bastard.

Author: Idiot. Now, as usual, please leave a review of your thoughts as well as any ideas you may have, and please no flames, or Deadpool will shove his katana up your ass while singing _You Are My Sunshine_.

Deadpool: *has katana in one hand and a banjo in another* Try me on, fuckers!

Author: Thank you, Deadpool. See you all later!


	3. A Sith in Diagon Ally

_**AN**_:

Author: Okay, remember when I said I was on a roll and that it wouldn't take me long to update?

Deadpool: Yes?

Author: I lied.

Deadpool: Bastard!

Author: Shut up. Now, I've realized there are some warnings that I should have given earlier, but forgot to. This story will contain graphic depictions of violence, torture, and sexual explicit scenes involving and/or between minors. If such things offend you, stop reading right now. The lemons and limes (sex and oral sex, respectively, for those who don't know) will actually be posted elsewhere, but where they usually would be will be marked.

Deadpool: You asshole! Why can't you just buckle up and post porn!

Author: I will be, but for those who don't want the sex scenes and would be offended if I put them in, I'm putting them somewhere else.

Deadpool: What do you care if you offend people?

Author: Shut up. As usual, enjoy or suffer! (Really, if reading this makes you suffer, why are you still here?)

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Chapter 2: A Sith in Diagon Ally**

_**July 29**__**th**__**, 1991, 12:47 pm**_

_**Sith Academy, Taransay, Scotland**_

A young figure made his way through the hallways of the Academy. He was tall for someone his age, that age being 10 (he turned 11 in two days), and could pass for someone older. He had pale skin, but not unnaturally so, black hair that he just couldn't tame no matter what he did, and red eyes (he planned on changing them to their natural green color before leaving). He wore clothes of the style of the world beyond the Academy borders, black slacks and a dark red t-shirt under a black unbuttoned dress shirt, for today, he and his new master were going into the public of this world.

Harry Potter smirked lightly as he remembered the final trial. He and several other acolytes, all older than him, had been sent to the asteroid belt in this system. In one of the temples that had been erected there, a lightsaber had been hidden, and they were tasked with finding it. The one who succeeded would become someone's apprentice (they hadn't been told whose). Inside the temples, there were various challenges the acolytes had to conquer in order to proceed.

For Harry, it had been too easy. The Force had always guided him to where he needed to go, so it was a simple matter of following that. He had to kill a few boar-wolves and a Rearing Spider, both natives of the planet Endor. However, another acolyte had managed to get to the 'saber first, having snuck past while Harry was busy.

The man really had no business calling himself Sith, as it took Harry a mere 5 minutes to kill him. Fool. When he had returned, he found that five of the other eight acolytes had been killed (three had died fighting a Dragonsnake, one died fighting a krayt dragon, and the last just vanished).

After his return, he had been told about Professor Dumbledore's visit, and the decision of his new master (when he found out it was Saeva, he had to keep form groaning). While he was pleased that they were confidant in his success, he couldn't help but wonder at what he had learned. This world, which he had always known to be the world of his birth, had a secret community of Force-users who utilized the Force in ways neither the Sith nor the Jedi had ever heard of before. He couldn't wait to learn what he could.

Harry's musings were broken as he heard cursing. Focusing, he saw three male acolytes (all human, and all several years older than himself) running, the middle one holding a bloodied hand, which Harry saw was missing several fingers.

"Stupid uzsien," the wounded one cursed. "I'll get that little Twi'lek bitch, you mark my words!" (*alien*)

Harry blinked as they rushed past him, and then smirked as he realized who they were talking about. Following the blood trail (unnecessary as he knew where her quarters were), he soon found one of his few friends at the Academy.

Zayla Orthon was an 8 year old Twi'lek, with light blue skin and violet eyes, her lekku just reaching her shoulders. She had been brought here a year ago on Darth Veritas's orders. Were it not for her wiping her vibroknife clean with a rag and the fingers on the floor, the serene look on her face would have made her look innocent.

"Having fun, woyunokos?" he asked as he closed and locked the door behind him. (*little one*)

Zayla smiled up at him, placing the vibroknife aside. She then picked up the largest finger from the floor and inspected it. After a moment she smiled.

"I think I'll keep this one, eh brolin?" she said, placing the finger in a jar filled with other fingers and… other things. Zayla had a tendency to remove pieces of her attackers who weren't strong enough to overpower her, be it fingers, eyes, or, occasionally, penises. She actually had a whole other jar just for penises. (*brother*)

Harry shook his head. "Three older acolytes couldn't overpower one undertrained Twi'lek child?" he asked rhetorically. "Pathetic. I was able to dominate a pureblood Sith who was already an apprentice when I was _your_ age."

Zayla giggled. "Well, you are_ you_, after all," she pointed out. Then she gave a smirk that most would think didn't belong on an 8-year-old's face. "Speaking of which, what brings you here, meistras?" she asked, causing Harry to smirk. She knew he loved it when she called him that. (*master*)

"I think you know," he stated. In a flash, he had her on her knees in front of him and, holding her by her lekku, pressed her face against his crotch. "My master and I are leaving soon," he said. "So you had better be quick, grotthu!" (*slave*)

**\\-LIME BEGINS-/**

Will be posted elsewhere.

**\\-LIME ENDS-/**

Harry smirked down as Zayla contentedly rubbed his cum into her skin.

"Don't wipe that off," he ordered. "I want everyone to see you like this."

"Yes, Master," she said. She wouldn't be the first to walk around with cum on her skin and/or clothes. In fact, it was quite a common thing to see. Sex was a big part of the Sith lifestyle.

With that, he walked to the door and opened it, but paused before walking out.

"Watch your back while I'm gone," he said, glancing at her. "That zioplys whose fingers you took was swearing revenge." (*idiot*)

"Worried about me?" she asked coyly.

"Hardly," he scoffed. "I just want you breathing when I get back. A corpse isn't a good fuck. I also don't want his sloppy seconds."

With that said, he left to meet his master at the gates of the Academy.

When he reached her, he noticed her appearance. She had obviously placed an illusion around herself so as not to draw attention. Her skin was now slightly pale, and her eyes were dark brown, almost black. Only her hair remained unchanged, pure black and braided down her back.

"Enjoying yourself, xaari?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. (*apprentice*)

"Very much so, Master," Harry responded. Saeva merely smirked.

"Your eyes are still red," she pointed out. A quick bout of concentration fixed that, changing his crimson eyes to their natural emerald. "Good, now let's go."

_**July 29**__**th**__**, 1991, 1:20 pm**_

_**Outside the Leaky Cauldron**_

Professor Minerva McGonagall stood wearing a muggle business woman's suit, her hair tied into its usual tight bun. With her were three muggleborns and their families, Hermione Granger, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Dean Thomas.

Professor McGonagall had been furious when Dumbledore told her the situation with Harry Potter. While she was thankful that Harry didn't have to live with those wretched Dursleys, she was angry that Dumbledore had known of his disappearance for ten years and hadn't told her.

"Professor?" Hermione Granger asked. "What are we waiting for?"

"We are waiting for the final member of our group," McGonagall replied. "They said they wouldn't have any trouble finding this place."

"And it is true," a new voice said.

Turning, McGonagall saw two figures walking up to them. The boy was taller than she had expected, but the resemblance to his parents was undeniable. He looked like his father with his mother's nose, jaw, and eyes, and, of course, the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. The woman looked stern, with dark eyes and black hair braided down her back.

"Professor," the woman greeted, holding out her hand. "Maris Zorra. You are aware of my ward, Harry Potter."

"Minerva McGonagall," the Professor introduced herself, shaking the proffered hand. "These are Mr. and Mrs. Granger and their daughter Hermione, Mrs. Finch-Fletchley and her son Justin, and Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and their son Dean. Now that we're all here, please follow me."

She then led them through the door and into the small pub.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron," she explained. "It is a famous place. While it may not appear very pleasant, Tom the barman is very kind and is always available if you have any questions."

"Ah, Professor," Tom the barman called, noticing them. "New students, I suppose? In that case, allow me to open the Gate."

He walked around the bar and led them into a small ally in the back. He tapped one of the bricks three times, and the wall suddenly reconfigured itself into an archway, opening up to a busy ally.

"Just tap that brick three times to open the Gate," Tom explained, "or just ask me and I'll do it for you. If that's all, Professor, I'll leave the rest to you. Good day."

They walked into the Ally, and three of the four students stared wide-eyed. Witches and Wizards in various colored cloaks moved about the ally, and shops of all sorts were lined along the sides.

"Welcome to Diagon Ally," McGonagall said, enjoying the looks of astonishment on their faces. She noticed, however, that Harry didn't seem very amazed. Instead, he looked around the ally with mild curiosity.

"Is that a bookshop?" Hermione asked hopefully, eyeing Flourish and Blotts.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall answered, amused. "But first, we must go to Gringotts, the wizard bank. There we will obtain some money from the vault Hogwarts has set aside for muggleborns, and from Mr. Potter's trust vault."

She led them down the street to a large marble building, with strange creatures on either side of the gate.

"Goblins," she explained, noticing their shocked expressions (save, of course, for Harry Potter's mild interest). "The own and run Gringotts."

Harry looked up and saw the words above the door.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"How many people respond to your challenge, sir?" he asked one of the goblins.

"Most would see it as a warning, rather than a challenge, young lord," the goblin responded with a wicked grin, apparently pleased by the show of respect. "But on average, about four fools a year try their hands at robbing us."

Smirking, Harry looked up at his guardian, who arched an eyebrow with an amused grin.

"Gal mes bandymas zhol?" he asked hopefully. (*Can we attempt it?*)

"Rasiz zo hevilas amzi, xaari," she said, causing him to pout. (*Perhaps a different time, apprentice*)

Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow, confused by the different language. Dumbledore had warned her that Harry and his guardian might speak together in an unknown language, one even he didn't recognize.

"If we're all ready," she said, leading them into the bank. After looking around, she approached a free goblin. "Excuse me, we need to go to the Hogwarts Muggleborn vault, and then go to Mr. Potter's trust vault."

"Do you have your keys?" the goblin asked warily.

"Yes," McGonagall said, holding up two keys, one silver, one gold.

"Excuse me," Maris Zorra said. "Mr. Potter and I would like to speak with whoever manages the Potter accounts before going to his vault. Is that acceptable, Professor?"

"It is," McGonagall replied.

"Very well," the goblin said placing the gold key aside, before turning around. "Slashblade!" Another goblin stepped forward. "Slashblade, take Professor McGonagall and her charges to vault 5-2-8."

"Yes, sir," the goblin responded, taking the silver key and leading them away.

"If you will excuse me," the first goblin said to Harry and Maris. "I will go find the Potter Account Manager. If you will please wait here."

After a few moments, the goblin returned, with another much older looking goblin holding a small bowl filled with water and a knife.

"Sir, madam, this is Bloodclaw, the Potter Account Manager," the first goblin said.

"If you could hold out your hand, young sir," Bloodclaw said, placing the bowl down. "I just need to confirm your identity. We've had several people coming in claiming to be Harry Potter over the years, most even giving themselves fake scars. All I need is to put a few drops of blood in the water, and if the blood glows, then you are indeed Harry Potter."

"I understand," Harry said, holding out his hand. Bloodclaw quickly slashed Harry's palm open with the knife, before smearing the blood onto the blade. The goblins were surprised when the cut healed itself seconds later, as they usually had to do that themselves. Quickly recovering, Bloodclaw held the blade over the bowl and allowed a few drops to fall. The blood swirled around in the water for a few seconds before giving off a slight glow.

"Well then," Bloodclaw said, picking up the bowl. "That's settled. If you two would please follow me, we can talk. Thank you, Master Quartzbone."

"Not at all, Master Bloodclaw," Quartzbone replied.

Bloodclaw led Harry and Maris through the bank and to his office. When they entered, he went to his desk and placed the knife in a drawer and poured out the bowl into a basin. Sitting down, he gestured to the two seats in front of the desk.

"Now then, Mr. Potter," Bloodclaw said as they sat down, "what can I do for you today? Oh, forgive me," he said, looking at Maris. "You are Miss-"

"Zorra," Maris said. "Maris Zorra. Most people, however, call me Lady Saeva."

"As you wish, milady," Bloodclaw said, bowing his head lightly. "Now, how can I help you both today?"

"We would like a statement on all Mr. Potter's holdings," Saeva said, causing Bloodclaw to frown.

"Have the previous mailed statements not been satisfactory?" he asked.

"What previous statements?" Harry asked, confused. "Up until a few days ago, I knew nothing about the Wizarding World."

Bloodclaw's frown deepened. He pressed a rune engraved on his desk, and a few moments later another goblin walked in.

"Griphook, bring me all the information on the Potter accounts," said Bloodclaw. "I want every piece of information on it from the last ten years."

"At once, Master Bloodclaw," Griphook said, hurrying off.

"Is something wrong?" Saeva asked.

"There just might be," Bloodclaw said. "Mr. Potter should have been receiving statements about the state of his accounts since he turned 9," he explained. "That is the usual age that Purebloods begin their training to take over the family. That he hasn't received any of the statements is disturbing."

At that moment, Griphook returned with a stack of files.

"Thank you, Griphook," Bloodclaw said, taking the files. "Dismissed. Now, if you two would give me a moment, I will go through these to see what has happened."

"Of course," Saeva said. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you, ma'am," Bloodclaw said, before turning to the files. As he started, he frowned, and the more he went through them, the deeper his frown got. At last, after going through all the files, he cursed. "It appears," he said to them after he calmed himself, "that one Albus Dumbledore has taken it upon himself to manage your accounts as he sees fit. Ten years ago, he briefly set up a payment system for your mother's sister and her family, but got rid of it a few days later. He has regularly been giving one Molly Weasley a sum of 5000 Galleons a year for the last eight years. A few days ago, it seems, he set opened a new vault for one Ronald Weasley and placed 1528 Galleons in it. He has also been pulling various but substantial amounts and placing them in his own vault. There is also the sealing of your parents' will, and an attempt to make a marriage contract between you and one Ginerva Weasley."

By this point, both Harry and Saeva were livid. Saeva's anger overcame the illusion she wore and caused her eyes to become red. Harry, whose change of appearance was not due to an illusion, was even less able to control his changes. Not only did his eyes turn red, but his hair became red as well. Normally he had better control over his abilities, but in high emotional situations, his control slipped.

Bloodclaw allowed the two a moment to regain their composure.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Saeva asked after a moment. "Dumbledore cannot be allowed to continue with this."

"There is, in fact," Bloodclaw said. "Now that Mr. Potter is 11, as the last living member of the House of Potter, he is able to claim Lordship of the house. Once that is done, actions can be taken to undo all that Dumbledore has done."

"What about that marriage contract?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, nothing you can do can change the contract," Bloodclaw stated, before grinning wickedly. "One Harry James Potter and one Ginerva Molly Weasley must be married. That, Mr. _Hadrian_ Potter, cannot be changed."

Both Harry and Saeva smirked.

"Unfortunately," Bloodclaw continued, "we at Gringotts have no record of any Harry James Potter. So they might have a little trouble finding him. If they do, I wish them the best."

"Me as well," Harry - _Hadrian _- agreed. "Now, how do I go about claiming Lordship?"

"There are a few ways," Bloodclaw admitted. "You could just give the standard claiming oath, as almost all wizards do these days, or you could be more thorough. There is a small test we can do that will identify any and all Houses that you are able to claim. There is technically no limit as to how many houses you can be lord of. So, which would you like?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I'd like to take that test, if you don't mind," Harry said.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," Bloodclaw said, pressing the rune on his desk again. A moment later, Griphook entered the room. "Bring me the Inheritance Test parchment, Griphook."

"Right away, sir."

A few moments later, Griphook came back with a sheet of parchment and a silver dagger.

"Thank you, Griphook," Bloodclaw said. "Dismissed. Now, as with the identity test, a few drops of your blood will be required. Once applied, the magic of the parchment will identify all Houses that are available that you can claim."

Harry held out his hand without reservation. After a quick cut and some liberal smearing on the dagger, the cut quickly healed and Bloodclaw held the dagger above the parchment. After a few drops hit the parchment, the blood seemed to sink into it. The parchment glowed for a few moments, before words in red (Harry suspected the blood) appeared:

_Name: Hadrian James Potter_

_Father: James Potter_

_Satus: Deceased_

_Mother: Lily Potter __née Evens_

_Status: Deceased_

_Godfather: Sirius Orion Black_

_Status: Alive (Incarcerated)_

_Available Houses:_

_House Potter – Blood Heir through Father_

_House Peverell – Blood Heir through Father_

_House Gryffindor – Blood Heir through Father_

_House Slytherin – Blood Heir through Mother (as former Head of House Slytherin, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was defeated by Heir at infancy, Lordship is available)_

_House Black – Magical Heir, declared by Godfather (as Godfather is imprisoned, Heir is able to claim Lordship at this time)_

_House Sith'ari – Magical Heir, declared by Magic (available to claim upon obtaining title of Sith Lord)_

The three people in the room were shocked. None of them had expected that many Houses to be available to Harry. But the two Sith in the room were most shocked by the last one.

"House Sith'ari?" Harry asked. "How is that possible?"

"'Declared by Magic'?" Saeva asked as well. "What does that mean?"

"Declared by Magic means that the House in question never had blood members," Bloodclaw explained. "It means that the magic placed on the House chooses who it deems to be worthy independently. However, I don't know anything about this House, nor do I know what it means by 'obtaining title of Sith Lord'. Does that mean anything to you two?"

"Actually, yes," Saeva revealed. "We are part of a secret order called the Sith. I am a Sith Lord. I was given the name Darth Saeva when I obtained my Lordship. Hadrian is my apprentice. When I deem his training complete, he will be a Sith Lord."

"I see," Bloodclaw said. "Well, all of that aside, apart from House Sith'ari, Mr. Potter is able to claim all the other Houses at this time. In fact, you should have been informed immediately when you turned 10. Another crime on behalf of Dumbledore. Would you like to claim you Lordships now, or later?"

"What are the benefits?" Harry asked.

"For one, Dumbledore will no longer be able to do anything with your accounts," Bloodclaw said. "Second, upon attaining your Lordships, you will be officially emancipated, rendering you exempt from the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. You will have full access to all your vaults, whereas right now, you can only access your trust vault. Finally, you will be able to draw on all old alliances and contracts that all your families have accumulated."

Harry smirked and looked up at Saeva.

"Zh'ae tu'iea siurk," she said. (*It's your choice*)

"What do I need to do?" Harry asked Bloodclaw, causing the goblin to smirk.

"I was hoping you would ask," he said, pressing the rune on his desk again, summoning Griphook. "Bring me the Lordship Acceptance forms, with the proper areas filled for these Houses, save the last." He handed Griphook the Inheritance Test form.

"At once, sir," Griphook said, leaving. Harry noted a hint of annoyance in Griphook's voice.

Once Griphook returned, Harry and Bloodclaw spent about half an hour filling out their respective places on the forms. Once they were done, Bloodclaw stacked the forms on the desk in five stacks and waved his hand over them. The forms glowed, before bursting into flames. When the flames were gone, there were five boxes where the stacks had been.

"Each of these boxes," Bloodclaw began, "holds the House Ring for each of the families. This is the final test."

"Test?" Harry asked.

"You see, Mr. Potter, just being able to make the claim to a House, doesn't automatically make the Lordship yours," Bloodclaw explained. "The Rings themselves possess a special Family Magic, cast by the founders of each House, which determine whether the potential Lord is worthy of the Lordship." He picked up one of the boxes. Opening it, the ring was shown to be gold, with a large red gem, with a gold Lion crest: the Gryffindor Ring. "All you have to do is put it on. If the ring accepts you, there will be a flash of light. If not…." Bloodclaw grinned maliciously, and held out the box.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and took the ring. Without hesitation, Harry put the ring on his right ring finger. The ring flashed gold.

"One down, four to go," Bloodclaw said, opening each box. The Slytherin Ring was silver, with an emerald gem, and a silver snake crest. The Potter Ring was gold, with no gem, but with a red and gold sword and shield crest. The Black ring was dark silver, with a violet gemstone, and a silver wand and dagger crest. The Peverell Ring was the oddest. The ring was gold with a black gemstone, but the crest was engraved into the stone, a strange eye-like symbol.

"Place them on the same finger as the Gryffindor Ring," Bloodclaw said. "They will merge together."

One by one, Harry placed all the Rings but the Peverell on his finger. The Potter Ring flashed red; the Slytherin Ring flashed green; and the Black Ring violet. Harry reached out for the Peverell ring, but paused. There was an odd aura surrounding the Ring.

"There's something wrong with this ring," he said, frowning. "It feels… familiar."

Bloodclaw frowned and waved his hand over the ring. A black aura surrounded the ring, causing Bloodclaw to become outraged.

"This ring is cursed!" he exclaimed. He all but slammed the rune on his desk. When Griphook entered, he was shocked by the rage exhibited by Bloodclaw. "Get me Gashmace from the Curse Breakers Department! NOW!"

Griphook hurried out, afraid of inciting Bloodclaw's wrath upon himself. He quickly returned with an older looking goblin.

"What is it, Bloodclaw," Gashmace asked, impatiently. "I'm busy!"

In response, Bloodclaw merely thrust the offending ring towards Gashmace. Confused, Gashmace began waving his hands over the ring, muttering spells under his breath in Gobbledegook, the language of the goblins. Like Bloodclaw, he quickly became enraged.

"This ring has incredibly dark curses upon it!" he exclaimed. "A compulsion charm which encourages the victim to put the ring on and a withering curse to kill them once they do. There is another curse that I can't identify, however. I will have to get Norkuk, the eldest in our department. He is likely to have seen something like this before." Gashmace pulled a stone from his pocket, with a rune engraved on it like the one on Bloodclaw's desk. Pressing the rune, he held it up to his mouth. "Bring Norkuk to Bloodclaw's office immediately."

Moments later, an incredibly old and scarred goblin walked into the office. As soon as his eyes landed on the ring, his eyes narrowed.

"A cursed ring," he mused. "And a dark curse at that. Do you know what this is?"

"If we did, we wouldn't have needed you here," Bloodclaw snapped.

"Figures," Norkuk muttered. "It's a Horcrux." Bloodclaw and Gashmace gasped. "Indeed. It sickens me just to look at it."

"Excuse me," Harry said. "But what's a Horcrux?"

"A horrifying piece of magic," Norkuk snarled. "An abomination. A Horcrux is an object that a witch or wizard has hidden a fragment of their soul. They are also known as Soul Anchors, as they anchor the witch or wizard to this plane of existence, even if their body is destroyed."

"So who made it?" Saeva asked.

"That, milady, is a good question," Bloodclaw said, pressing the rune on his desk. Griphook hesitantly walked in. "Bring me all information we have on the Peverell House Ring. We need to know who possessed it last."

"Yes sir, right away sir," Griphook said hastily. Moments later he returned with a stack of files.

"Dismissed," Bloodclaw said, taking the files. After a moment of looking through the files, he scowled. "I should have known," he muttered. "The last known possessor was Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Wasn't he listed as the last Head of Slytherin Family?" Harry asked.

"Indeed," Bloodclaw responded. "It also said that you vanquished him when you were an infant. Which means we now know Voldemort's true identity."

"Who's Voldemort?" Saeva asked. The goblins stared at them. "What?"

"You truly don't know?" Bloodclaw asked. At their negative, he sighed. "Voldemort was a dark wizard who, until ten years ago, brought pain and misery to the British Wizarding World. Ten years ago, on Halloween, Voldemort attacked your parents at their home in Godric's Hallow. Both of them were killed, but you survived. Voldemort's powers broke that night, and he vanished. You were hailed in the Wizarding World as the Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of the Wizarding World. Everyone believed he was dead." He glared at the ring. "Apparently he's still alive."

"So, if we destroy this ring, he'll die?" Harry asked, angered at this news.

Gashmace began waving his hands over the ring, muttering. After a moment he growled.

"Destroying this Horcrux won't kill him," he revealed. "The soul fragment in this ring is small."

"So?"

"You see, when a Horcrux is created, the soul of the creator is halved," Norkuk explained. "The size of the soul fragment in this ring indicates that Voldemort made at least one Horcrux previously, perhaps more. And he probably made more afterwards."

Saeva suddenly frowned. "Is it possible to make a living being into a Horcrux?" she asked.

"It is possible," Norkuk said warily. "Why?"

"What would the effects be?"

Norkuk frowned. "Unless properly made, diminished focus, slight transfer of abilities, and reduced health and magical power as the Horcux draws power from the host, becoming little more than a leech. Again, why?"

"When Hadrian was brought to our home ten years ago, the masters detected a nonphysical leech, sapping his strength and power. It was located in his scar. Luckily, they were able to remove it, but it almost killed him."

Norkuk quickly cast a few spells over Harry's scar, and then nodded. "There is residue from a Horcrux, but none present."

"Could we do the same to the ring?" she asked.

"No, I cannot allow it," Norkuk said firmly. "I have no doubt your people's powers are substantial, but we cannot risk damage to the enchantments on the ring."

"How long will it take to remove it?" Harry asked.

"Several weeks," Norkuk said after a moment of consideration. "We can contact you once we succeeded."

"Very well," Harry agreed as Norkuk took the ring and, bowing to them, he and Gashmace left.

"Well, that was enlightening," Bloodclaw said. "Would you like to go to your vault now, my Lord?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Would you like to visit all your vaults, or just one?"

"Just my trust vault will be fine," Harry said. "I think we've kept Professor McGonagall and the others waiting too long."

"As you wish," Bloodclaw said, summoning Griphook. "Griphook, take Lord Potter and Lady Saeva to vault 6-8-7." Bloodclaw opened a drawer and pulled out a simple looking leather pouch. "Here, Lord Potter. This is a Gringotts Bottomless Money Pouch. Normally, only goblins are allowed to use them, but considering the crimes against you, an exception can be made. I hope you can forgive Gringotts for allowing this horrendous action to take place."

"Thank you, Master Bloodclaw," Harry said, taking the pouch. "I assure you, I do not hold you or your bank responsible for what has happened."

After a brief trip down to the vaults (Harry really enjoyed the cart ride, in fact he asked if it could go faster, to which Griphook responded, "One speed only."), Harry and Saeva walked out the doors of the bank. Not far from the doors, Hermione Granger and her parents were looking at something through the windows of a random store, but Professor McGonagall, the Finch-Fletchleys, and the Thomas's were nowhere in sight.

"Did we miss something?" Harry asked as they walked up to the Grangers.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "Oh we were getting _so_ worried! Why did you need to speak with the goblins? Was something wrong? Is that why it took so long? Professor McGonagall tried to find out what was happening but the goblins wouldn't answer her! In the end we decided to split up. My parents and I agreed to wait here for you and meet up with the others at the Leaky Cauldron when you came out. My parents agreed to rent a room so we could stay and buy my school things tomorrow."

She said all of this in one breath.

"Do you even need to breathe?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Of course I do," she said. "What kind of silly question is that? Well come on! Professor McGonagall is waiting for us. It's rude to keep teachers waiting, don't you know! She said that if we get there early enough then we can all still get our wands together. Besides all the books, that's really what I've been looking forward to. You know what I mean? Real wands!"

"Hermione," Harry said.

"Yes?"

"Breathe."

"Oh, shut up!"

"I think they're getting along, don't you?" Mrs. Granger asked her husband and Saeva.

Saeva only smirked as they made their way down to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry and Hermione chatting all the way. Both were obviously academic, and shared a passion for learning new things. There were several points that they disagreed on, but that's what made it fun. By the time they reached the Leaky Cauldron, the two of them were good friends (something that amused Saeva), and Harry was giving Hermione pointers on how to be personable.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Zorra, was there any problems?" Professor McGonagall asked when they entered the Leaky Cauldron.

"There were a few discrepancies," Saeva admitted. "But they've been taken care of, or are being addressed at this moment."

"Very good. As it is, we do not have enough time to purchase all your supplies today, so I have made a list of all the shops where you can obtain all your supplies. However, I can at least take you all to Ollivander's to get your wands."

Hermione and Justin's eyes lit up, while Harry looked mildly interested. Professor McGonagall led them down the Ally and stopped at probably the shabbiest shop on the street, with a sign that read _Ollivander's__: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_. The inside was even shabbier. A layer of dust covered everything, and a spindly chair sat in the corner. Piles of thin boxes stacked as high as the ceiling filled the store.

Harry frowned. When he had entered the store, a slight niggling had appeared on the edge of his mind. Shaking his head, he smirked and turned his head to a dark corner.

"Mr. Ollivander, I presume," he said making the others (minus Saeva and Professor McGonagall) jump. From the shadows stepped an old man with white hair, light skin, and pale, unblinking silvery eyes.

"Impressive, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said. "Not many people have been able to locate me when I am hidden. May I ask how you did it?"

"You may," Harry said, smirking. "Though I won't tell you."

Mr. Ollivander chuckled. "You have your mother's wit, Mr. Potter," he said. "It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand.10 and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand.11 inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it; it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course. And that's where-" He reached out and traced a finger over Harry's scar, making the young Sith uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," Mr. Ollivander said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and noticed the others in the room.

"Ah, Minerva McGonagall! So good to see you again. Fir, nine and a half inches, stiff, wasn't it? How is it working for you?"

"As I have said countless times over the years, Mr. Ollivander, it continues to work fine," Professor McGonagall said shortly. "We are here for wands for Mr. Potter and these other students."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Ollivander said. "I think we should save Mr. Potter for last, tricky customer I expect. Now, who's first?" Hermione stepped forward when the others hesitated. "Very good, my dear. Hold out your wand arm. The arm you write with," he clarified at her confused look.

About half an hour later, Hermione, Dean and Justin had all obtained their wands. Hermione's wand was Vine wood, Dragon heartstring core, and 11 inches; Dean's wand was Black Walnut, Dragon heartstring core, 10 and a quarter inches; Justin's was Cherry, Unicorn hair core, and 10 and a half inches.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said, looking excited. The next half hour was went by with Ollivander bringing Harry a wand, then snatching it away just as quickly, becoming more excited with each wand.

"Knew you'd be a tricky customer, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said happily. "Perhaps, yes. Odd combination, holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches, nice and supple. Give it a try." Unfortunately, he snatched the wand away before Harry was halfway through a wave. "I would have thought… but no, I guess not. Tricky, tricky."

Harry was becoming annoyed. Not with the constant giving then snatching of wands. No, he was becoming annoyed with the niggling on his mind. It was becoming more and more insistent. Then he frowned.

"Mr. Ollivander," he said, catching the old wandmaker's attention. "Have you ever heard of a wizard being drawn to a wand?"

Ollivander froze midway from pulling down another box. He slowly put it back and looked at Harry carefully.

"It is rare," he said softly. "As far as I know, only my grandfather ever witnessed such a thing. If you think you can sense your wand…" He grinned. "Why don't you lead the way then, Mr. Potter? Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, Ms. Granger, why don't you two come with us. Professor, you and the others don't mind waiting here, do you?"

"Not at all," Professor McGonagall said, resigned to having to wait.

"Excellent! Mr. Potter, lead the way!"

Harry paused, then went deep into the shop, the three other students and Mr. Ollivander following.

The shop was apparently much larger on the inside than it seemed outside. Rows and piles of wands created an almost labyrinth like interior. As he went deeper, the niggling in his mind became stronger. The feeling led him to a door at the end of the shop. He pressed his hand against the door.

"It's through here, sir," Harry said, looking at Mr. Ollivander, who became very pale.

"Are you certain, Mr. Potter?" he asked nervously. At Harry's nod, he sighed and unlocked the door with a flick of his wand. The door opened, revealing a descending staircase.

The stairs opened up to a dark corridor, with chests and display cases lining the walls. The thick layer of dust and cobwebs indicated that no one had been down here in a very long time.

"This is where my family has stored wands deemed too powerful or too dangerous to be sold ordinarily," Mr. Ollivander explained. "I think it best if only Mr. Potter and I continue, as it could be extremely dangerous for the three of you. Just wait here."

Slowly, Harry made his way down the corridor, looking at each of the wands in interest, but none called to him. Finally, he came to a stop at the end of the corridor where a large chest sat on a slightly raised platform with pillars surrounding it. It was from this chest that he could feel the call.

"This one, sir," Harry said. What little color remained in Mr. Ollivander's skin left in that instant and for the first time since Harry entered the shop, he blinked.

"Never… never would have thought," he murmured. "Never in my life…" He walked over to one of the pillars and tapped it four times with his wand. A small compartment opened up and Mr. Ollivander pulled a key from it. Slowly, hesitantly, he fit the key into the lock on the chest and turned it. The chest top flipped open. Inside was another chest top which rose slightly and also opened. This happened multiple times (like a Russian Doll) until finally a small cushion with a wand atop it was revealed.

Unlike everything else in the corridor, this wand and the cushion it laid on was free of dust. The call was greater than ever now. Slowly, Harry reached out and took the wand. As soon as his hand touched the wand, it felt like the Force was singing around him. Looking around, he saw a blank piece of wall to his right. Smirking, he pointed his new wand towards it and allowed the feeling of power to flow through himself and the wand.

Instantly, lightning shot from the wand tip and hit the wall, causing it to crumble.

"Impossible," Mr. Ollivander said quietly. "Never, in all my years…"

Harry smiled at the power he felt coursing through him. He then looked down the corridor as he heard fast footfalls heading towards them. Soon, the three other students, with Hermione at the lead, came to a stop in front of them, all looking alarmed.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked frantically. "We heard an explosion and we thought…" She trailed off and looked suspiciously at Mr. Ollivander.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear," Mr. Ollivander said faintly. "Mr. Potter here just found his wand. And such an extraordinary wand it is, indeed. This wand, Mr. Potter," he said, looking nervously at Harry, "is the oldest, most powerful, and likely the most dangerous wand I have ever had in my possession. It was forged by my ancestor, the first Ollivander to start crafting wands. He soon became known as the greatest of his age. One day, a rising Dark Lord came to him and demanded a wand be made for him. This Dark Lord, while powerful and knowledgeable, had no skill in wandcrafting. However, he had researched it, and came with certain specifications. It was a long and arduous venture, but eventually, my ancestor managed it."

Mr. Ollivander looked timidly at Harry's wand. "12 inches, a mixture of Ebony and Elder wood, and duel cores, both soaked in special substances: a Thestral tail hair dipped in Basilisk venom, and a tail feather from a black phoenix, dipped in Unicorn blood. A masterpiece. Then the Dark Lord returned and demanded the wand. But then, something happened that neither had anticipated: the wand rejected him."

"Rejected?" Hermione asked. "How can a wand reject someone?"

"As I have always said, it is the wand that chooses the wizard," Mr. Ollivander said. "It is not always clear why. The more powerful the wand, the pickier in master it tends to be. When the Dark Lord tried to force the wand to serve him, it destroyed him. Since then, over the years, many attempts to sell this wand have been made, each more disastrous than the last. Eventually, it was placed down here, and became the first wand to be stored here. Never would I have thought it would choose a master."

Mr. Ollivander stared piercingly at Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I believe we can expect great things from you," he said, almost reverently. "Yes, great things indeed."

He then shook himself slightly.

"Well then," he said quickly. "Best head back. We wouldn't want to keep Professor McGonagall and your parents waiting, now would we?"

With that said the five of them headed back. When they returned, Professor McGonagall looked at Harry in exasperation.

"Must everything take forever with you, Mr. Potter?" she asked. "I certainly hope your coursework takes the standard amount of time."

"Don't worry, Professor," Harry assured her. "My coursework will be done promptly."

"Good. Now, Mr. Ollivander," she said, turning to the man. "How much will that be?"

"Seven Galleons each for Ms. Granger, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Finch-Fletchley, and twelve Galleons for Mr. Potter," he said faintly, still in shock.

After paying, they all left the store. Professor McGonagall took her leave and gave them a list of shops where they could acquire their school supplies, as well as a warning not to go down Knockturn Ally, which peaked both Saeva's and Harry's interest.

As they walked down the street to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry mused on the upcoming year. Suddenly, his head perked up as he sensed something on the edge of his mind, bringing a smirk to his face.

It seemed an old friend had returned.

AN:

Author: Well, that was my longest chapter yet. Who is this friend that Harry senses? You'll just have to find out next time!

Deadpool: Jerk!

Author: Shut up. Now, you may have noticed that I have translations wherever the Sith language is spoken. This is because I decided to be nice. Now, here's the scene from the last chapter with the Sith language translated:

"Greetings, old friend," Veritas said as she stood before the desk, bowing her head slightly. "I bring the teacher."

Valarius scowled at Dumbledore before gesturing to the seats before him. At that moment, the door opened again, and a female of Valarius's species walked in. She had sharp features and a cruel gleam in her crimson eyes.

"Ah, Darth Saeva. I am happy you are joining us," Valarius said to the newcomer, before turning back to Dumbledore. "This is Darth Saeva," he said in English. "She will be joining us for this discussion. Now, I want you to tell me about your institute. What are its rules, what does it teach, and why Acolyte Potter should attend. You have one hour."

"Why can't we kill him?" Saeva asked after a moment. "What he speaks obviously cannot be true! Magic! Deceit!"

"It is true," Veritas said, causing Saeva to look shocked. "They use the Force differently from us. Interesting…"

"So, why are we here?" Saevo asked.

"We are here to speak about Acolyte Potter attending this place of teaching," Valarius responded. "As his future master, what do you think?"

Saeva thought for a moment, before turning to Veritas.

"Is there any advantage to him attending?" Saeva asked.

"Yes," Veritas replied. "However, even though there is an advantage he can just as well fulfill his calling without attending. It is your choice."

Author: There you go. Please leave a review with your thoughts and opinions. No flames please, or Deadpool will do something horrible to you involving red paint, a spatula, rope, and poetry by Edgar Allen Poe.

Deadpool: "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary…"

Author: Thank you. See you guys later!


	4. The Jedi

AN:

Author: Well, here you go. The next chapter.

Deadpool: About time, too. I was getting impatient.

Author: I would also like to tell you that I finally posted the lemon (lime, whatever) from the last chapter. All the lemons from this story will be placed in Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith (LEMONS). Go there to get your rocks off.

Deadpool: Okay! *leaves*

Author: Finally. Now, as usual, enjoy or suffer!

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Chapter 3: The Jedi**

_**August 5**__**th**__**, 1991, 1:13 am**_

_**Unknown Location, London, UK**_

Harry stood on a nondescript rooftop, waiting. He was wearing black and grey Sith armor, the design of which others called the Juggernaut's Birthright armor, minus the helmet, with his lightsaber clipped to his belt. Also hidden on his person was his wand.

Saeva and Hermione were both asleep, so sneaking out had been child's play. Over the last week, he and his friends had almost fully explored Diagon Ally. To his disappointment, Saeva had not actually begun his training, stating that it would begin on the train ride to Hogwarts.

Hermione's parents, after they had bought all of Hermione's school things, had agreed to allow her to stay at the Leaky Cauldron with Saeva to look after her. She could frequently be found at Flourish and Blotts. She was very surprised to find Harry's name in several books there. Harry felt she had potential, if she could get over her worship of authority (he felt he had been making headway in that regard, but it was slow working).

Unfortunately, Dean and Justin weren't so lucky, but they visited often enough and wrote when they couldn't visit, using Harry's new snowy owl, Hedwig (he had gotten the name from _A History of Magic_). Hedwig was a prideful owl who loved bacon and took her job very seriously (all owls do, really, but she took it to another level).

Harry's musings were cut short as he heard a slight shuffling behind him. He smirked.

"Your stealth has gotten better," he commented aloud.

Not a second later, the _snap-hiss _of a lightsaber activating could be heard, followed by the hum of said saber moving swiftly. Harry's own saber was active and up in time to block the blue 'saber from hitting him.

He quickly threw his leg out, catching his opponent in the abdomen and throwing them away. He relished the feminine grunt that had sounded when she hit the ground.

Instantly, she was up again and racing towards him. He easily blocked and dodged each of her attacks, causing her frustration to grow.

"You've gotten better," he commented mildly when their 'sabers locked together at one point. "But so have I."

Suddenly, he leapt back, causing her to become off balance. He took a deep breath, the let out a Force Scream (a trick Darth Valarius had taught him) knocking her back. Deciding to end the fight, he flicked his wrist, summoning his wand, and pointed it at her as she prepared to charge him again.

"_Petrificus totalus_," he called out. Startled by the sudden, odd shout, she didn't think to move out of the way.

Suddenly, her body went rigid, her arms snapped to her side (her lightsaber falling to the ground and deactivating), and her legs snapped together. Shock played through her eyes.

With the fight over, Harry took the time to observe his old friend. The girl was about his age, give or take a few months, though she was shorter than him. Her dark brown hair went down to her shoulders. Her skin was light and soft, but her brown eyes blazed with fire. She wore a simple light brown tunic, tan trousers, and a brown utility belt. Her tunic barely hid her developing chest.

Smirking, Harry leisurely made his way over to her frozen form. Holding his lightsaber up to her throat, he reveled in the anger that filled her eyes.

"I think I win," he said. "Again."

Rolling her eyes, his opponent glared at him.

"Mhm hmm mmm hmm, hmmrk," she mumbled through her locked jaw. (*Just let me go, jerk*)

"What was that?" Harry asked. "I didn't catch that." She glared at him. "Fine." Deactivating his lightsaber, he flicked his wand at her. "_Finite_." She collapsed as the ability to move suddenly returned to her.

"Sithspit," she muttered, picking herself up.

"I should probably be offended by that," Harry stated mildly. The girl glared at him.

"How did you do that?" she demanded.

"What, no 'hello'?" he asked in mock hurt. "No 'how have you been'? Jaesa, you wound me!"

Jaesa Willsaam rolled her eyes. With a small smile, she reached over and hugged him.

"It is good to see you again, Harry," she said. "But couldn't you let me win just once?"

"That would defeat the whole purpose of our little spars," Harry said with a smirk.

"Jerk," Jaesa pouted. Then she smiled. "I see you have an actual lightsaber now. Anything to share?"

He smirked. "You're looking at the new apprentice to Darth Saeva," he said proudly. Jaesa grimaced. "I take it you've heard of her."

"Yeah, she cut off Master Nomen Karr's arm three months ago," she said.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, smirking. "How is he, by the way?"

"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't act like you care." Harry shrugged. "Now, back to my question: how did you _do_ that?"

"Magic," he smirked.

"Be serious," she frowned.

"I am," Harry said.

"I'm guessing there's a story here," she said.

With that, Harry told her everything that had happened, from Dumbledore visiting the Academy (she didn't bother asking where it was, he never told her), coming to Diagon Ally, the meeting at Gringotts, the wand shop, and finally exploring Diagon Ally with his new friends.

"So you had those spells you could have used the whole fight?" she asked, frowning.

"There were a lot of spells I could have used," Harry said. "I could have stunned you, I could have made you collapse in laughter, I could have had you dancing uncontrollably, and I could have done this, too. _Incarcerous_!" Ropes shot from his wand and wrapped around Jaesa, pinning her arms to her sides and binding her legs together.

"Hey! Jerk! Let me go!"

"I don't know," he said, looking down at her thoughtfully. "I think this is a good look for you."

"Jerk!"

"Fine. _Diffendo_." The ropes fell from Jaesa's form. "Happy now?" he asked.

"Very," she said, standing back up. "Did you have to do that?"

"Yes."

"Jerk."

"Love you, too!"

She scowled at him. He always knew how to wind her up. Taking deep breaths, Jaesa went over her Jedi training in order to calm herself. Sometimes, she wondered why she considered him a friend.

"So what about you?" Harry asked. "What's new with you? Nomen Karr still getting you down?"

Oh yeah, that's why: she was able to vent her frustrations with him, and he didn't chastise her blatant emotional displays. It was comforting. After about half an hour of venting, she sighed and sat down on the edge of the building, Harry sitting next to her.

"Now that you've got all that out of your system, how's the training going?" Harry asked. "I noticed that you've gotten better since the last time you were here."

"If you say so," she muttered.

"Is someone else saying otherwise?"

"No, but besides the masters, no one on Tython is really a challenge for me. Ever since I started sparring with you, I've advanced beyond the other padawans."

"Is that pride I hear, Padawan Willsaam?" Harry asked teasingly.

"Maybe," she admitted. "Not that it matters. No matter how good I get, I can never beat you. Now, with you going to this magic school, I'll never beat you. You'll have all these little tricks you can pull on me." She sighed. "You're always at another level."

Harry thought for a moment. Then, an idea struck him. It was crazy, insane even, but it might work. Jaesa, despite being a Jedi, was his friend after all, and he wanted to help her.

"You know," he said slowly. "You could probably come to Hogwarts with me."

She looked at him as though he was jumping up in down in a pink tutu.

"What?" she asked.

"You could tell Nomen Karr about the school," he said. "It could be the Jedi's only chance to learn about and observe such abilities."

"But I'll have to tell them about how I heard about the school," she protested. "Which would mean telling them about _you_."

"I never said you had to tell him everything. You can tell him I'm a native, which is true enough. You can say that we met when you first came to Earth and we became friends, which is also true. You can then say that I discovered this society that I am now a part of, also true, and suggested that you come to the school with me."

Jaesa thought for a minute. Then she smiled.

"He might go for it," she admitted. "But then, it really falls to the council to decide if I can go."

"Well then," he said, standing up. "You'd better get going then." Then he frowned. "Huh, I just realized I'm going to have to tell my master about this. Hm, that'll be fun."

Jaesa smiled at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said.

"Don't mention it," he said. "Now, once you've told him, and if he decides to let you go, or if he wants to talk to a Professor first, tell him to go to the Leaky Cauldron. It's a pub on Charing Cross Road. Think you guys can find it?"

"It shouldn't be a problem," she said.

"Good. Contact me on my holocom to give me a heads up."

"Will do, Harry." Then she hugged him. "Thanks again. You know, if you're not careful, people might start to think you care about me."

"Well, we wouldn't want that," he said smirking, before reaching down and giving her ass a squeeze.

"AH! Jerk!" she cried, blushing. She then slapped him, causing him to laugh.

"See you later, hot stuff," he said smirking, before jumping off the building.

Jaesa watched him go and sighed. He was so incorrigible.

In the past, when they had first met, she couldn't help but trust him. He never lied to her, and neither kept any secrets from each other. It was an unspoken fact of their friendship that both were trying to convert the other. Even when she had no reason to trust him, she just couldn't help but trust him, and she didn't know why.

But now she did. A few months earlier, while training on Tatooine, she had fully unlocked an ability that had, over the course of her life, subtly manifested: she could see a person's true nature. All their secrets, their intentions, and what they believed, were visible to her. She now realized that her power, acting from her subconscious distrust of any Sith, had told her that she could trust him.

During their conversation, she had briefly turned her 'sight' on him, and had almost reeled. He was so full of darkness, so filled by the Dark Side, that she almost couldn't believe what she saw next: he cared for her. That was his motivation for inviting her to Hogwarts; he wanted her to be as strong as she could be. She couldn't believe that someone so filled (and happily so) with the Dark Side could be capable of caring for anyone.

She had thought that she had been making headway in bringing him to the Light Side, but apparently not.

Jaesa shuddered. It had taken all her willpower to pull her sight away. The amount of power that all but flowed off of him… it was…

She took a deep breath.

'_There is no emotion, there is peace_,' she mentally recited. '_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force_.'

For some reason, reciting this didn't elicit the calming effect she had come to expect. This time, the words seemed… empty.

She shook her head clear. '_Enough of that_,' she chastised herself. '_Master Karr might sense it_.'

With that thought, she took off towards where they were staying, all the while wondering about her friend.

_**August 6**__**th**__**, 1991, 11:30 am**_

___Madam Malkin's__** Robes for All Occasions, Diagon Ally**_

Harry walked in the store mumbling. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to come here before. Personally, he couldn't see what was wrong with his own robes, but his master had insisted he obtain actual school robes.

He had been surprised by how well Saeva had taken his friendship with Jaesa. It probably had to do with him telling her he was slowly corrupting Jaesa (he omitted the fact that Jaesa knew this and he wasn't sure about his progress). She had agreed to spend most of her time in the Ally for the duration of their stay, just in case Jaesa and Nomen Karr decided to show, as it probably wasn't a good idea for her to be in the same building as a fully trained Jedi (not to mention one she had fought before).

"Hogwarts, dear?" a voice asked, bringing him back to the present. The woman (who he assumed was Madam Malkin) in front of him was squat, smiling, and dressed all in mauve. "Got the lot here… another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

She led him to the back of the shop where a pale, blonde boy was being fitted, and stood Harry next to him.

"Hello," the boy said. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yep," Harry said.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry raised an eyebrow. The boy sure liked to hear himself talk.

"Have _you_ got your own broom?" the boy asked.

"No," Harry said. "I really haven't had the time to go looking at them."

"So you don't play Quidditch?"

"Haven't had much opportunity to, really."

"Well _I_ do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"If we have any choice in the matter, I'm leaning towards Slytherin."

"Really? Me too! My whole family has been in Slytherin. Imagine being put in Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Not really," Harry said. "While it doesn't seem to be my kind of house, it has its own merits."

"You think so?" the boy asked, his eyes narrowing. "My father says they're all duffers, just there because they can't fit in anywhere else."

"Does he?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at the boy. "And what do you think?"

"I told you!"

"No, you told me what your father has to say on the matter," Harry pointed out. "I asked what you think."

"I agree with my father."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because he's right!"

"And how do you know that? Because he told you so?"

"Yes!"

"So you agree with your father because he's right, and you know he's right because he told you so, and you agree with him," Harry surmised, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you see a problem with that?"

"I-You-"

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said to Harry, cutting the boy off from his stammering. Stepping down, Harry looked at him.

"If you wish to continue this discussion, I'll be in Flourish and Blotts with some friends of mine," he told him. "You're welcome to join us. I'm Harry Potter, by the way. Nice to meet you."

Harry left the gaping boy, paid for his robes, and went to Flourish and Blotts.

_**1:23 pm**_

The boy, Draco Malfoy as he introduced himself, did in fact join Harry and his friends (Dean and Justin were visiting that day). Apparently, his father had been pleased that the two had met, and was more than happy to allow Draco to join Harry (Harry suspected Draco omitted Harry questioning Mr. Malfoy's authority).

Draco had been shocked to learn that Harry's friends were, in fact, muggleborns, and Harry was less than pleased to learn that the Wizarding World had its own share of prejudices. Fortunately, Draco seemed willing to put his beliefs aside in order to remain cordial. Surprisingly enough, once Draco put aside his prejudices, he and Hermione got on really well.

They were currently debating over how they could be sorted. Draco said his parents and Godfather, who was a teacher at Hogwarts, refused to tell him, as it was a tradition.

"Where would you go?" Dean asked. "If you had a choice, I mean."

"Well, Ravenclaw sounds like a good house," Hermione said. "But if I had a choice, I'd prefer Gryffindor. I heard Headmaster Dumbledore himself went there."

"And why would you prefer Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"I told you, Dumbledore was in it!"

"So?"

"Well he's the Headmaster," she said. "There has to be a reason for that!"

"Maybe," Harry said. "But if you look at the history of the school, there have been more Slytherins and Ravenclaws as Headmasters than Gryffindors. Dumbledore is an anomaly."

"Well, he's supposed to be the most powerful wizard alive!"

"So? That's all him. Are you expecting a power boost if you go to his old house?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what does it matter? Either your weaker than him, his equal, or more powerful. The house you go to doesn't determine that."

"Where would _you_ go then?" Hermione demanded, quite put out. She hated it when he proved her wrong (which was quite often, actually).

"Well, I've been giving that a fair bit of thought," Harry said. "Ignoring the stereotypes that have arisen for each house, and ignoring who has been in what house, I looked at each house based on the traits they uphold, and the positives and negatives those traits produce."

"Traits?" Draco asked.

"You know, the traits each founder valued," Harry explained. "Gryffindor values bravery, always better to be brave than a coward. Ravenclaw values intellect, no one will argue the value of that. Hufflepuff, despite what others may say-" Harry shot a look at Draco, who winced. "-values loyalty and hard work, both very good things. And Slytherin values cunning and ambition."

"I heard every dark witch or wizard who ever lived was in Slytherin," Dean said.

"I hardly think that's true," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "While Slytherin has probably produced more than the others, I'm sure that the other houses have produced their own monsters. However, sticking to Slytherin for the moment, that makes sense. The house does, after all, value ambition, and what greater ambition is there than to dominate others?"

"Are you saying that it's a good thing?" Hermione demanded.

"Of course not," Harry defended. "In fact, this brings me to the negatives of each house. For Gryffindor, bravery without thinking ahead is never advisable. For Ravenclaw, a thirst for knowledge can lead to an obsession for the written word, and a worship of authority." He shot a look at Hermione, who winced. He had pointed out the problems with her authority figure worship and the problems with it. "For Hufflepuff, there is such a thing as blind loyalty."

"And what about Slytherin?" Draco demanded. "What negatives are there for Slytherin?"

"Obsession with a goal," Harry said simply. "To the point where you become blind to everything else."

"That's all well and good, Harry," Hermione said. "But you haven't answered my question."

"I just wanted to go over everything I'd thought about," Harry explained. "With all of that in mind, I think I would prefer Slytherin."

With that, the five of them conversed about their house preferences (Hermione now leaned towards Ravenclaw), and their expectations for Hogwarts.

After a while, a sudden chirping sounded. Harry recognized it as his holocom (his personal holo-communicator).

"Excuse me for a minute," Harry said, standing up.

"What is that?" Draco asked.

"It looks like muggle technology," Hermione said, frowning. "But I haven't seen anything like it before. Besides, I thought muggle technology didn't work in highly magical areas."

"Hey Hermione, why don't you show Draco that book you found yesterday," Harry said. "You know, the one where, apparently, I killed a dragon at four years old."

Frowning at Harry's obvious distraction technique, Hermione reluctantly led the others away to show them the book.

Walking to a secluded spot, Harry activated his holocom. A small holographic image of Jaesa appeared above the small disk.

"Jaesa! How'd it go, hot stuff?" he asked.

"Very well, actually," she said. "He put it to the counsel and they said that, as long as he's okay with it, they think it's a great idea. He wants to talk to a teacher, so we'll be heading over to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Great," he said. "I'll get Professor McGonagall here. How'd they react to me?"

"Well, Master Karr's suspicious of you," she admitted. "But then, he's suspicious of everyone who isn't on the counsel, so that's nothing new."

"Figures. See you later, hot stuff."

"Oh, Harry," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Stop calling me 'hot stuff'. Especially around Master Karr."

"I make no promises."

"Jerk."

"Love you, too!"

Deactivating the communicator before she could curse him further, he walked over to his friends.

"Hey guys, I have to go to the Leaky Cauldron for a bit," he said. "An old friend's hoping to attend Hogwarts, and I'm setting up a meeting between her guardian and Professor McGonagall."

"Really? Who is he?" Draco asked.

"I'm sure you'll meet," Harry said, smirking. "I'll be back."

He left his friends and went to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hey Tom," he said to the barman. "Mind if I use the Floo again?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Evens," Tom said, pulling out a small bag and handing it to Harry. Tom had agreed not to call Harry by his actual name so as not to draw attention to him.

"Thanks, Tom." Taking the bag of Floo powder, he walked over to the fireplace. "Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall's office," he called out, throwing some powder into the fire, turning it green. Kneeling down (the floor was charmed to be soft for Floo-calls), he stuck his head into the flames. "Professor? Are you there?"

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said from her desk. "How can I help you today?"

"Remember that friend I told you about yesterday?" he asked. At her nod, he continued. "Well, her guardian wants to talk to you about her attending."

"Very good, Mr. Potter," she said, standing and walking around her desk. "Step back, please."

Pulling his head out of the flames, Harry backed away from the fireplace. Seconds later, the flames turned emerald and Professor McGonagall stepped through.

"Professor, glad you could make it," Harry said.

"Mr. Potter," she nodded to him. "Where are they?"

"They should be here soon," he said. "I'll direct them to you when they get here."

"Very well. Tom, a booth please."

"Of course, Professor," Tom said. He led her to an empty booth and left to get her a drink.

Harry moved to a corner by the door. A few minutes later, two people walked through, a man and Jaesa.

The man was tall, wearing customary Jedi clothes and a thick brown robe. He had greying brown hair and a goatee, and pale blue eyes.

Smirking, Harry stealthily moved behind Jaesa, who was looking around.

"Boo!" he called, poking her in her sides, making her squeal and jump.

"AH! YOU JERK!" Harry couldn't respond he was laughing so hard. "Why you arrogant, infuriating-"

"Padawan," Nomen Karr cut in sharply, glaring slightly at Harry. "Harry Potter, I presume," he said.

"Yes, sir," he said, smirking slightly. "You must be Nomen Karr. Jaesa talks a lot about you."

"Sadly, I can't say the same," Nomen Karr responded, glaring lightly at Jaesa. She blushed lightly, bowed her head and mumbled an apology.

"If you'll follow me, sir, I'll take you to Professor McGonagall," Harry said, still smirking.

Nomen Karr, ever stoic, merely nodded and followed Harry to the Professor's booth.

"Professor," Harry said, catching the teacher's attention. "This is Nomen Karr and his charge, Jaesa Willsaam."

"Mr. Karr," she greeted, standing up. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. If you would sit down, we can talk." She gestured to the seat across from her. "Mr. Potter, if you would show Ms. Willsaam around the Ally, I would be grateful. Perhaps you could introduce her to your friends."

"Sounds good," Harry said, looking at Jaesa. "Come on, hot stuff. My friends are at Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore."

"Harry!" Jaesa said, blushing furiously. "You jerk!"

Nomen Karr narrowed his eyes slightly, but sat down across from Professor McGonagall.

Harry led the glaring and blushing Jaesa out of the Leaky Cauldron.

"I told you not to call me that in front of him," she hissed angrily at him.

He smirked at her.

"Sith," he said simply.

"Jerk."

"Love you, too, hot stuff."

Harry led Jaesa (still fuming) down the Ally and into Flourish and Blotts. He found his friends at a table near the back with the three muggleborns telling Draco about the muggle world. The confused look on his face was quite amusing.

"Hey guys," he said to them. "I'd like you to meet the friend I told you about. Guys, this is Jaesa Willsaam. Jaesa, this is Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Draco Malfoy."

"Hello, nice to meet you," Jaesa said shyly.

"Nice to meet you, Jaesa," Hermione said, smiling.

The three boys, however, couldn't seem to say anything. They were too busy staring.

"Um, is something wrong?" Jaesa asked, nervous.

"No," Harry said, smirking. "They just seem to agree with my nickname for you."

Jaesa blushed furiously.

"Jerk," she muttered.

"What nickname?" Hermione asked.

"'Hot stuff'." Harry looked at the three other boys. "I wouldn't get your hopes up, guys. She's off limits."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Dean asked. Hermione frowned slightly.

"No, she's part of a secret order that forbids relationships," Harry explained. "I'm working on that, though." He pointedly ignored Jaesa's glare.

"What's your order called?" Hermione asked.

"Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being 'secret', now wouldn't it?" Harry pointed out, smirking. Hermione pouted at him. "Though I suppose telling you the name of the order won't be a problem. They're called the Jedi."

"The Jedi? I've never heard of them," Hermione said, frowning.

"Well, it is a _secret_ order," Dean said. "We're probably the first people to hear of it."

Harry pulled out a chair for Jaesa next to Hermione, then sat on her other side.

They spent the next hour answering multiple questions for and by Jaesa (she pointed refused to say anything that would be deemed 'forbidden'). Soon, they were talking about the Magical vs Muggle worlds.

While they were talking about various modes of magical transport, Nomen Karr entered the shop. Jaesa, sensing her master's arrival, jumped up from her seat and stood straight.

"Padawan," he said to her, glaring briefly at Harry. "I have decided to allow your attendance at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall has agreed to help us obtain your school things, and is waiting outside."

"We can help her get everything," Harry said, smiling. "I'm sure you're very busy, so we'd be happy to-"

"That will not be necessary," Nomen Karr cut in, glaring coldly at Harry. "Come, Padawan."

Nomen Karr turned and left the shop, Jaesa reluctantly following after apologizing to her new friends.

Harry smiled as he watched her go. This was certainly looking to be an interesting year. He couldn't wait to see what other surprises this new world had in store for him.

AN:

Author: Not as long as the previous chapter, but oh well. Now, I want to make this clear. Jaesa Willsaam is a character from Star Wars: The Old Republic. She stars in the Sith Warrior storyline, and is probably my favorite character in the game (I especially like Dark Jaesa, which is why she's here). Now, this story will not be following the Sith Warrior storyline, and Jaesa and Nomen Karr's backstories have been changed for this story. There is no Darth Baras, nor will there be an equivalent (the closest there will be will probably be Saeva).

Please leave a review to tell me what you think. No flames, please, or Deadpool will tap-dance on your spine in cleats (steel and sharpened) while Mozart plays in the background. *looks around* Where is he anyway? He should have finished reading my lime by now. *shouts* HEY! DEADPOOL!

Deadpool: *groggily* Huh? Whatuh?

Author: *deadpans* You came, then fell asleep. You'd think having an amazing healing factor would fix that, but I guess not. Idiot. Well, until next time, folks! If you'll excuse me, *pulls out machete* I have an idiot to decapitate and castrate.


	5. Visions on the Hogwarts Express

AN:

Author: Well, here it is! The next chapter in my story.

Deadpool: Really? I thought it was a pop-tart made into words and sprinkled with chocolate kisses.

Author: *stares*… You. Are. An. Idiot.

Deadpool: The voices in my head disagree!

Author: And insane. Moving on, enjoy or suffer!

Deadpool: The voices in my head say do both!

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Chapter 4: Visions on the Hogwarts Express**

_**Platform 9 ¾, Kings Cross Station, London**_

_**September 1**__**st**__**, 1991, 10:15am **_

Harry sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, already in his school robes, and with a book in his hands. It was a book called _Magicks Moste Evile_, a book on dark magic he had gotten from a bookshop in Knockturn Ally. He and Saeva (and later a reluctant Hermione) had explored Knockturn Ally as fully as they explored Diagon, purchasing several interesting and potentially useful artifacts. Hermione had been won over to exploring it with the promise of books not found in Flourish and Blotts.

Saeva had taken the Floo to Hogwarts, not wanting to spend time on the train. Before she had left, she had given him his first task in his training, to be accomplished by the time he arrived at Hogwarts: When the train left the station, he was to meditate on the Sith Code, and present to her his interpretation of it when they met that night after the Welcoming Feast and Sorting Ceremony. From his interpretation, she would craft his training regime.

He hadn't seen Jaesa since she and Nomen Karr left Flourish and Blotts that day, but he had taken to sending her letters with Hedwig along with Dean and Justin. According to her responses, her shopping trip hadn't been as eventful as his own, though it had taken her a while to get her wand (Alder wood, phoenix tail feather core, 10 and three quarter inches), though not as powerful as Harry's.

Looking out the window, Harry tried to see if any of his friends had arrived yet. Hermione had gone back to her parents for the last week of summer, and Justin and Dean had spent the last week with their families. Draco, however, came frequently to hang out. He introduced Harry to older students whose families were friends with his, and other students who were to be in their year, and he had varying opinions on them.

Theodore Nott was a rat faced boy, both in appearance and personality, and Harry thought little of him. Blaise Zabini was an interesting, quiet guy whose family was originally from Italy. Pansy Parkinson was an annoying pug faced girl with a strange obsession with Draco (Harry didn't hesitate to tease his friend about this). Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle were hulking tools with barely half a brain between them.

The older students Draco knew were barely worth mentioning. Harry suspected that everyone Draco knew were only his 'friends' because their parents were all former Death Eaters.

Harry did, actually, make several new friends, a few of them older students. His favorite had to be a certain shape shifter he had met.

"Wotcher, Harry," a voice said when the door suddenly opened.

'_Speak of the devil_,' Harry thought. '_Or in this case, think of her_.'

"Labintias, Nymphy," Harry smirked.

Nymphadora (call me Nymphadora and die) Tonks scowled, her pink hair becoming orange. She had a heart shaped face, framed with shoulder length hair that changed color. She was a metamorphmagus, like Harry, so she could change her appearance at will (or if her emotions got away from her, as it usually did with her hair). She was already in her school robes, which, concealing as they were (by design, no doubt), did nothing to hide her impressive bust.

"I told you not to call me that," the seventh year said.

"I know," Harry said, shrugging. "I just don't care."

Tonks sighed. She may not have known him long, but she knew that arguing would achieve nothing (she'd tried hexing him once, but he then demonstrated a wider knowledge of hexes than her, evidenced by her face being upside down for a whole day).

"Fine. What was that word you said?" she asked. "Labritas?"

"Labintias," corrected Harry. "It means 'greetings'."

"What language is it? I've never heard it before."

"Sith. And don't bother asking more about it, cause I won't tell you." Harry grinned roguishly at her. "Of course," he added, "I could be _persuaded_ to tell you."

Tonks blushed. Since they met, Harry had shamelessly flirted with both her _and_ her mother. Embarrassing as it was, she was uplifted by the knowledge that her mother, Andromeda, wasn't immune to Harry's charm either, if her blushing when he flirted with her was anything to go by. What made it worse was that Tonks was tempted to take him up on his flirtations.

"In your dreams." '_And mine_,' she mentally added, then mentally chastised herself. '_He's eleven!_' she told herself. '_A very suave, charming, insanely hot – stop that!_'

"Something wrong, Nymphy?" Harry asked, smirking at her inner conflict.

"Is there a word in Sith for prat?" she asked, shaking her head clear.

"Not that I know of," Harry said, thinking. "But you could call me valzino or lytinis if you want."

"And what do those mean?"

"God and sexy, respectively."

"How about 'annoying'?"

"I don't think there's a word for that, either."

"Whatever," she said. Checking her watch, she said, "See you when we get there, Harry. I hope to see you in Hufflepuff. Oh, and my mum says hi."

'_I bet she wants to say more than that_,' Harry thought, smirking. "See you then, lytinis," he said. She blushed furiously and quickly closed the door.

Harry turned back to his book. He was currently reading about the so-called 'Unforgivable Curses'. He had already perfected the Imperious Curse while in Diagon Ally, using it on various witches to have his way with them. Honestly, he would prefer either dominating them while they were aware, or corrupting them to the point where they begged him for it. He had tested the Cruciatus Curse a few times in Knockturn Ally, but he hadn't been able to test the Killing Curse yet. He figured he would be able to test it out in the Forbidden Forest over the year.

The door slid open again, revealing Hermione and Draco, both wearing their school robes.

"Hey, mate," Draco said. "You wouldn't know why that seventh year girl with pink hair was running off, blushing, would you?"

"Maybe," Harry said, smirking as he noted Hermione's slight frown. '_Do I detect jealousy?_' he mused idly. "Take a seat," he said, gesturing to the bench across from him.

"So, who was she?" Draco asked when they sat down.

"Nymphadora Tonks. We met last week in Diagon Ally. She just _loves_ being called Nymphy," he added with a smirk.

"So, how's Jaesa?" Hermione asked quickly, making Draco raise an eyebrow. Harry paused for a second, and then smiled.

"Ask her yourself," he said, just as the compartment door slid open.

"Ask who what?" Jaesa asked as she walked in.

"Hermione was asking how you were in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from where it was," Harry said, shrugging. "So, with that being said, how are you?"

Jaesa raised an eyebrow and Hermione blushed.

"I don't want to know," Jaesa said, sitting down next to Harry. "And I'm fine, thank you for asking."

"You know me, hot stuff, always caring," Harry said, smirking. Then he frowned, as the Force seemed warn him of something. He focused his attention on Jaesa, looking for anything out of place. A glint of silver on her shoulder caught his attention. "Hey Jaesa, what's that on your shoulder?"

Jaesa frowned and looked closely at her shoulder. Then she rolled her eyes, picking the silver speck off her robe.

"I should have figured," she muttered, holding up. "A listening device. Master Karr must have put it on me before I came through the barrier."

"How do you know he didn't put in on you on the platform?" Draco asked.

"For some reason he couldn't get through the barrier," she explained. Harry reached out and took the device and looked at it.

"Do you think he listens live, or to a recording later?" he asked.

"Probably later, why?" Jaesa asked.

Harry smirked mischievously. He took a deep breath, the screamed into the listening device.

"Geez, mate!" Draco said, letting go of his ears when Harry finished. "What did you do that for?"

"Just a lesson for Karr when he listens to this," Harry said, crushing the device between his fingers. "Maybe he'll think twice before bugging someone next time."

"Not likely," Jaesa said. "How did you know that was there?"

"The Force guided me," he explained.

"Guided you?" Jaesa asked, dumbfounded. "Master Karr said that only a fully trained Jedi can be guided by the Force to that extent."

"It's never been a problem for me," Harry said. "The Force has always guided me, and when it does, I listen. It led me to you, after all."

"How did you two meet, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"It was about three years ago now," Harry said. "She and several other padawan learners were brought to London, a field trip you might say, to experience different cultures. At the same time, Darth Valarius had also brought me to London, to see the world I could have grown up in."

"Wait, Darth Valarius?" Jaesa asked, wide eyed. "As in, _the_ Darth Valarius, from the Dark Council? He's on Earth?"

"Yes, he runs the Academy," Harry said.

"Whoa, slow down," Draco said, Hermione nodding in agreement. "Dark Council? What's that? And what do you mean, 'on Earth'? Where else could he be?"

"Well, the Jedi Council speculated on where he could be," Jaesa explained offhandedly. "They thought he was on Dromund Kaas or Korriban."

Draco and Hermione stared blankly at her, then turned to Harry, who shrugged.

"So much for keeping that a secret," Harry said idly. "Might as well come clean. The Jedi Order is a Galactic order, the protectors of the Galactic Republic. The Order isn't really secret, but on primitive planets like this, it's easier to say it is. Please keep it quiet."

"So, you're from an alien planet?" Hermione asked, astonished.

"Alderaan," Jaesa said. "But the Jedi found me when I was young and brought me in to be a Jedi. I've gone from planet to planet, training. Nomen Karr is my Jedi Master, and as his padawan learner, he teaches me everything he knows."

"Wow," Draco said, dumbfounded. In mere seconds, the world he knew suddenly became very small.

"So Harry, how do you know all this?" Hermione asked. "And what was that Dark Council you were talking about."

"The answers to those questions tie in to each other," Harry said. "The Dark Council is like the Jedi Council, only for the Sith."

"Who are the Sith?" Draco asked.

"The Sith are like the anti-Jedi," Harry explained. "They run the Sith Empire, which rules over half the galaxy, the Republic containing the remaining systems. And I know all this, because I'm a Sith."

"You're a Sith?" Draco asked.

"Yep."

"But if the Sith are anti-Jedi, and Jaesa's a Jedi, how can you two be friends?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Our friendship is complicated," Harry said, shrugging. "It consists mostly of her venting her frustrations to me, me flirting with her, and both of us trying to convert the other. Like I was saying, she and several other padawans were brought to Earth to observe developing societies, and Lord Valarius brought me to London to see what could have been my world. Jaesa got separated from her group, and I wandered off on my own. The Force guided me to her, and we spent the day together."

"I didn't know he was Sith at the time," Jaesa cut in. "If I had, it probably would have been different."

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "Nonetheless, I knew she was Jedi almost immediately: the way she acted, her reactions, her constant muttering of the Jedi Code, which was very annoying. By the time I told her I was Sith, we were already good friends. Though I was surprised, and still am, really, that she trusts me like she does." He looked at her. "Why did you trust me so much, anyway? I'm not complaining, but still."

Jaesa shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't been sure if she was going to tell Harry about her power, and now, being put on the spot, she couldn't think of a reason not to tell him. So she told him about her power. How it had manifested in her early years, and her discovery of it on Tatooine (Draco and Hermione were still astounded by talk of alien planets), how Nomen Karr told her not to use it as a crutch and only to use it when absolutely necessary, and (shamefully) her brief usage of it on him.

"Don't worry about it," Harry assured her after her fifth apology. "I'm a Sith. I'd be surprised if you didn't use it on me. Though I am surprised that Nomen Karr recommended restraint in using this power, considering how paranoid he is. Oh well," Harry shrugged, filing it away for later.

Checking the time (_**10:45**_), Harry put his book away (he really hadn't read it since his friends came in).

"I should probably get started," Harry said. "I'm going to be meditating for the whole train ride," he told them.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Master Saeva gave me my first assignment for my training," Harry explained. "I have to meditate on the Sith Code over the train ride and determine what it means to me."

"There's a Sith Code?" Hermione asked. "Is there a Jedi Code, too?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is," Harry confirmed. "Jaesa, feel like sharing?"

"Sure," she responded, smiling. "_There is no emotion_,_ there is peace_._ There is no ignorance_,_ there is knowledge_._ There is no passion_,_ there is serenity_._ There is no chaos_,_ there is harmony_._ There is no death_,_ there is the Force_."

"Inspiring," Draco said.

"My turn," Harry said, smirking. "_Peace is a lie_,_ there is only passion_._ Through passion I gain strength_._ Through strength I gain power_._ Through power I gain victory_._ Through victory my chains are broken_._ The Force shall set me free_."

"I'm not sure about that first line," Hermione said, frowning slightly.

"I'm not sure about most of the Jedi Code," Harry retorted.

"Personally, I'd never heard the Sith Code before," Jaesa admitted. "I wasn't even sure there was one."

"So, you have to figure out what the code means, and if you get it wrong you get thrown out?" Draco asked.

"No. Every Sith has their own interpretation of the Code, and how they interpret it determines where their strengths in the Force lie," Harry explained. "Through my interpretation, Master Saeva will construct my training thus. Which reminds me, how are you continuing your training, Jaesa?"

"Holocrons," Jaesa said, sighing. "Master Karr isn't able to come to the school to train me himself, but he wants me to contact him every three days to give him a report. If I miss three contacts, he and a battalion of Jedi will storm Hogwarts to find out what's wrong."

Harry chuckled. "So, you guys mind watching over me while I meditate?" he asked. "I'm going to go deep, so I won't be aware of anything around me."

"You enjoy crushing my expectations, don't you?" Jaesa deadpanned.

"What do you mean?"

"Master Karr told me that only full emersion in the Light Side can produce meditations that deep."

"Well, that's something else he was wrong about, isn't it?" Harry smirked.

That said, Harry crossed his legs on the bench and closed his eyes. Slipping into his meditative state didn't really take him long, and in seconds he was no longer aware of his surroundings.

"I think he's out," Draco said, poking Harry's shoulder and drawing no reaction. At Jaesa's sigh, he raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, it's not supposed to take such a short time."

"I should just stop being surprised by him," Jaesa said.

The train whistled as the clock struck 11:00, and began to pull out of the station.

While Harry meditated, Hermione and Draco began to pepper Jaesa with questions about the Republic, the various planets she had visited, life with the Jedi, and other such questions.

A few minutes after the train started going, the door suddenly opened, revealing a gangly red haired boy. He glanced at Harry for a second before turning to everyone else.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Jaesa was about to scoot over and let him in when Draco cut in.

"Bull," Draco said coldly. "This train is magically expanded so that it can never be full. The whole of Britain, both Magical and Muggle, could get on this train and it still wouldn't be full. Now, what do you want?"

The boy was stunned for a minute, before trying a different track.

"Blimey," he said, suddenly awed. "That's Harry Potter! Hey mate, mind if I sit here?"

"He can't hear you," Draco snapped. "Now sod off."

"Can't hear me? You bewitched him didn't you, snake?!"

Jaesa was suddenly mad. She didn't know what this boy's problem was, but no one insulted (at least, the boy meant it as an insult) her friends. With the Force, she shoved the boy back and slammed the door shut.

As soon as the door shut, she realized what she had done. Taking deep breaths, Jaesa mentally recited the Jedi Code to calm herself, but, as had become common of late, it only partially worked.

"That was wicked," Draco said, awed.

"Who was that prat?" Hermione asked.

"A Weasley, going by the red hair and hand-me-down robes," Draco said. "Father described them as poor, all red hair, and more children than they can afford. Probably wanted to get in with Harry and leech off his fame."

"What fame?" Jaesa asked. Hermione and Draco stared at her. "What?"

They explained to her the basis of Harry's fame: Voldemort's terror hold over Magical Britain, his attack on the Potters, his defeat when he tried to kill Harry, and Harry's almost deification by Magical Society. Jaesa looked at Harry, wondering why he never mentioned this to her before.

As she watched him, he suddenly tensed up.

"Harry?" she asked, frowning in concern. When he didn't respond, she reached out to shake him, hoping to get a response. But when her hand touched his shoulder, the train compartment around him suddenly vanished.

Metal structures surrounded her as rain poured down. It was obviously a city, and the Imperial Banners everywhere indicated an Empire controlled planet. A crowd was gathered, as though the entire city had emptied into the street, facing a tower.

Suddenly, she realized this was a vision. Harry was having a vision, and by touching him, she had been pulled into it.

On a balcony facing the crowd, a figure stepped out. Camera-droids activated and began transmitting. Jaesa's position was suddenly on the balcony as well. The figure was light skinned, grey haired man, wearing a military uniform.

"Citizens!" he called out. "I have terrible news! The Emperor has fallen!"

The crowd was stunned silent, not sure what to think. Jaesa was the same.

"He was assassinated by the cursed Jedi," he exclaimed. The crowd went into an uproar, furious. "Yes! But fear not, my people! For the Emperor, in his infinite wisdom, proclaimed a worthy successor! May I present to you, your new Emperor, Darth Virtus, Emperor of the Sith, and his wife, Darth Obscura!"

Several figures walked to the edge of the balcony. She instantly recognized 'Darth Virtus': Harry Potter. He was older, probably in his twenties now, with a light beard. His eyes, rather than the crimson one would expect, were green. But they were unnatural, and seemed to glow with malevolent power.

Next to him stood a hooded woman. She wore a purple long skirt, and sleeveless purple top wrappings, with shoulder pads and a hood pulled over her head. She wore purple fingerless gloves that went to her elbows. Despite that she couldn't see the woman's face, she could see her eyes: malevolent gold, with red rings around the irises.

Behind the two were figures in black hooded cloaks and masks, so Jaesa couldn't see anything about them. She noticed they had wands in their hands, and a few also had lightsabers clipped to their belts.

"My people," Harry (or Virtus) called to the cheering crowd. "I swear to you, I will not allow this travesty to go unpunished!" The crowd cheered louder. "The Jedi will fall! The Republic will fall! Long live the Empire!"

"Long live the Empire!" the crowd chanted.

The scene changed. Now she was in a battle-scarred area. Scorched meadows, charred trees, and corpses were everywhere.

It took her a moment, but she recognized the planet: Tython.

Looking around in horror, she saw Sith roaming around, appearing to check the Jedi corpses. Every once in a while, a Sith would stab a body with their lightsaber.

Virtus stood, watching his Sith kill the survivors. At his feet was the body of Grandmaster Satele Shan.

"My Lord," a Sith said, walking up to him. "We've received reports from the other battalions on the planet: Tython has fallen."

"The Twi'leks?" Virtus asked.

"They did their jobs well, my Lord, and are ready to pledge themselves to you."

"Good," Virtus said, smirking. "Clear the corpses from the temples and take any useful information from the libraries. As promised, the planet is theirs. Now all that remains is Coruscant. Prepare the fleet. By the end of the week, the Republic will be no more."

"Yes, my Lord," the Sith said reverently, bowing.

Once more, the scene changed. Now she was on Coruscant, and it looked as though the battle was over.

Virtus stood atop the stairs of the Senate Tower, holding the severed head of Supreme Chancellor Saresh by one of her lekku, his wife standing next to him. At the foot of the stairs was a mixture of imperial soldiers and various Sith. Behind Virtus stood the Wizard/Witch Sith figures she had seen before.

"This is a glorious day," Virtus said, his voice (possibly magically) magnified. "The Republic has, after all these years, fallen to our might!" His army cheered. "After years of war and conflict, we can finally have peace! But I promise you this, we will not be idle! Our Empire will expand beyond the limits of the galaxy! Long live the Empire!"

The army before them took up the chant, energized by Virtus's words.

"My dear," he said, his voice normal now, turning to his wife. "There is no doubt that there will be resistance, headed by the surviving Jedi. How would you like to head the operation to crush them?"

"It would be my immense pleasure, my love," she replied. Jaesa could hear the sadistic pleasure in her voice, could see the look of eagerness on her face…

Her face. Jaesa could now see the woman's face.

'_No_,' she thought. '_It can't be!_'

Suddenly, Jaesa was back on the train, gasping on the floor.

"Jaesa!" Hermione cried. "Finally! We were worried about you! What happened?"

"It can't be…" Jaesa said softly. "It can't…"

"What happened," came Harry's voice. For a moment, his eyes glowed like they did in the vision, before fading to normal.

"You went sort of rigid while you were meditating," Draco explained. "Jaesa tried to shake you out of it, but then she went rigid. You were both out of it for hours!"

Harry looked at Jaesa, who was still in shock.

"You saw it too." It wasn't a question.

Jaesa didn't respond.

The vision was horrifying, not because of the devastation of Tython and Coruscant, but because of the revelation at the end and the feelings it brought up in her: Fear, and, more terrifyingly, anticipation.

Emperor Virtus's wife, the Queen of all Sith… was Jaesa.

AN:

Author: Well, how's that for an ending?

Deadpool: When is Harry going to get laid again?

Author: I don't know. Maybe the next chapter, maybe the next one. I know some of you might be upset that they revealed the whole life on other planets to Hermione and Draco, but whatever. Now, the Sorting is next. Tell me what Houses you think the characters should be in. Just know, Draco and Harry will both be in Slytherin, so reviews on their House(s) won't affect what I write.

Deadpool: Aww. I wanted to put Draco in Hufflepuff!

Author: Why?

Deadpool: I dunno. Just did.

Author: Shut up, idiot. Anyway, tell me what you think guys. Remember, reviews feed my soul, and flames feed Deadpool's desire to do horrible things to you involving syringes, jackhammers, sewing needles, your genitals, and the song _I'm Walking On Sunshine_.

Deadpool: *sings* Whooooaa! I want to feel good!

Author: Idiot.


	6. The Sorting

AN:

Author: Hello all! I'm really disappointed in you people. I'm not getting many reviews and my soul hungers. Luckily I haven't gotten any flames, so Deadpool has been free to fuck around with his new toy.

Deadpool: *plays with disemboweled fluffy kitten* Fun!

Author: Sorry about him, guys. A reviewer threw a fluffy kitten at him and he ended up introducing it to his knives… more specifically, introducing its adorable guts to his knives. Very messy.

Deadpool: Say hi to the nice people, Mr. Whiskers!

Mr. Whiskers: *guts hang out of belly*

Deadpool: Good kitty!

Author: Fucking psychopath.

Deadpool: Don't blame me! You wrote my dialogue!

Author: Shut up. Anyway, enjoy or suffer!

**Harry Potter: Lord of the Sith**

**Chapter 5: The Sorting**

_**September 1**__**st**__**, 1991, 5:55 pm**_

The rest of the train ride was silent between the four. Jaesa moved to the seat across from Harry next to Hermione, Draco moving next to Harry. Jaesa stared at the floor, frequently muttering under her breath. Hermione recognized the Jedi Code. However, Jaesa just seemed to get frustrated and stopped repeating it. Hermione noticed that Jaesa pointedly refused to look at Harry.

Harry spent most of his time gazing out the window, seeming deep in thought. Occasionally he would look at Jaesa, his expression thoughtful. Sometimes he would open his mouth to say something, but he would close it and go back to looking out the window.

Draco and Hermione didn't know what to make of this. They knew that something happened while Harry was meditating, and that Jaesa was somehow pulled in. They figured it wasn't a good idea to bring it up with Jaesa around given how nervous and (dare they say it) ashamed she seemed, so they decided to ask Harry when they were alone.

Harry was considering how to proceed from this with Jaesa. He could understand how this would affect her, with her being a Jedi and all. He could feel her emotions raging in her. They were unfocused, muddled by her attempts to suppress them, but they were strong. If she would only embrace them, she could almost match him in terms of power.

Harry decided he would have to talk to Saeva, and perhaps Veritas, about his vision and what to do from here.

When the train reached the Hogsmeade Station, Jaesa swiftly left the compartment. The other three followed at an easier pace. All the First Years were led by the Gamekeeper, Hagrid, to the edge of the Black Lake, where boats awaited them ("No more'n four to a boat," Hagrid told them). Jaesa sat with Dean and Justin, along with a sandy-haired boy named Seamus who Dean had made friends with. Harry, Draco and Hermione shared a boat with a shy round-faced boy named Neville.

"What happened?" Hermione asked after the boats took off.

"A vision," Harry stated, still somewhat distracted. "Sometimes, the Force provides visions."

"Visions of what?" Draco asked.

"Anything the Force decides to show," Harry explained. "Things that were, things that are, or things that have not yet come to pass."

"So, what did you see?" Hermione asked.

"Myself, rising to become the Emperor of the Sith; eliminating the Jedi; and ending the Republic."

"So, she didn't like that?" she asked.

"Probably," Harry admitted. "But I don't think that's what's bothering her. In the vision, she was by my side the whole time, a Sith. Falling to the Dark Side is the nightmare of any Jedi, and seeing it for herself… Well, I can only imagine what she's feeling. Actually, scratch that. I can _feel_ what she's feeling. She's just not sure what to do."

The rest of the boat trip was silent. Neville didn't know what they were talking about, so he kept silent.

The sight of the castle was awe-inspiring for the students (save Harry and Jaesa), with its turrets and flags. Harry felt at one point the castle was meant for war, but had been renovated as a school.

The boats passed under a curtain of ivy and into a torch lit tunnel in the cliff the castle sat on. When they reached the harbor, they climbed out.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" asked Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" Neville cried blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

After making sure everyone was there (and making sure Neville still had his toad), Hagrid knocked on the door. The doors opened and revealed Professor McGonagall, wearing emerald robes.

"The Firs' Years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said proudly.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She opened the doors wide and led the students through a large entrance hall. They passed a large door with hundreds of voices carrying through it (the rest of the students, no doubt) and into a small, empty chamber.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Harry noticed Draco straighten at the mention of Slytherin. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron Weasley's smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

With that, she left the chamber.

"Harry, mate," Ron Weasley said, walking up to Harry. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

"You obviously know who I am," Harry said warily, remembering what he had learned at Gringotts.

"You should be careful who you hang out with," Ron said, shooting a look at Draco. "You might get cursed, like back on the train. If I hadn't shown up-"

"Nothing would have happened," Harry said coldly. "I wasn't cursed, I was meditating."

"Meditating?" Ron asked, confused. "What's that?"

Harry groaned. Before he could respond, several people behind him screamed.

Raising an eyebrow, he looked behind him as people gasped. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the First Years. They seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say," a fat monk ghost was saying. "We ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves?" a ruff and tights wearing ghost asked. "He gives us all a bad name! And you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

He had noticed the students. None of the students responded.

"New students!" the Fat Friar said, smiling at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded, and Harry smirked. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," came Professor McGonagall's voice as she reentered the chamber. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

As the ghosts floated away, she had the students form a line and led them into the Great Hall.

Thousands of candles floated in midair over four long tables, where all the other students were seated. The tables were laden with empty golden plates and goblets. At the far end of the hall was another long table, with the teachers seated facing the students. Harry noticed Saeva sitting next to a dark skinned witch.

Harry suddenly felt unease. The Force was warning him about something, something to do with the teachers, but he couldn't tell what. He considered what to do for a moment, before an idea came to him. He sent the warnings he had been receiving from the Force to Jaesa, hoping she would use her power to find out what was wrong.

For a few moments, he wondered if she got the warnings, when he heard her gasp. Glancing back, he saw her staring at the Head Table in shock. She then looked at him, but then quickly looked away. Harry decided he would ask her later.

Professor McGonagall brought out a four legged-stool and placed it in front of the First Years, upon which she put an old and dirty pointed hat.

Harry wondered what was so important about the hat (everyone in the Hall was staring at it expectantly), when a rip near the brim opened and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry, _

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, _

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_"

The Hall burst into applause as Harry stared at the hat with a deadpan expression. '_Really_,' he thought sarcastically. He wasn't the only one not impressed.

"So we've just got to try on a stupid hat," Weasley whispered angrily. "I'll kill Fred! He was going on about wrestling a troll!"

"Idiot," Harry muttered. First Years fighting a troll and surviving. Yeah, right. He could probably do it, but still.

Professor McGonagall began calling the names of the First Years to try on the hat and be Sorted.

The first few were sorted into Hufflepuff, then one to Ravenclaw, then a few to Slytherin. As each was sorted, their respective house gave applause. A girl Harry had met in Diagon Ally (Davis, Tracy) was sorted into Slytherin.

Justin was called up and soon sorted into Hufflepuff. The sandy-haired boy Dean had befriended (Finnigan, Seamus) was sorted into Gryffindor. Then…

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself, then walked up to the hat. The hat sat on her head for a minute or two, seeming to have a hard time, then shouted-

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins seemed unhappy with this development, and seemed to move away from Hermione when she sat down. Only Tracey Davis didn't seem to care.

The next person up was another girl Harry had met, Daphne Greengrass. She, too, was sorted into Slytherin. She also didn't seem to care about Hermione.

Harry zoned out for most of the sorting until Draco was called up. He walked confidently up to the stool and sat down. The hat was barely on his head for a second when it called, "SLYTHERIN!" He walked over to the Slytherin table and sat across from Hermione, ignoring the stares/glares from the other Slytherins.

A few more students (three Ravenclaws, two Slytherins, and a Gryffindor), Harry was called up. Harry ignored the whispers and pointing as he walked up to the stool.

Professor McGonagall had just begun to lower the hat towards Harry's head when the hat all but screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Gasps filled the hall, and Harry swore he saw a few people faint. The only people who clapped were his friends, even those in the other houses. Smirking, he got up and walked over to the silent Slytherin table, taking a seat next to Hermione.

"What's their problem?" he asked Draco when he sat down.

"They all expected you to get sorted into Gryffindor," Draco explained. "Everyone was expecting you to be the new 'Golden Boy'."

"Idiots," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Professor McGonagall shook herself back to reality and resumed the Sorting. Harry didn't really pay attention to the Sorting (except for Dean, who was sorted into Gryffindor) until Jaesa's name was finally called.

(_3__rd__ person POV change, Jaesa_)

After seeing the vision, Jaesa couldn't stop the influx of emotions no matter how hard she tried.

She was angry at her future self for falling to the Dark Side, angry at herself for becoming that person, and angry at Harry, because she knew he was the one who corrupted her. Then she felt guilty, and even angrier at herself for being angry at him, because ultimately her fall had to be her choice. Then there was the growing sense of anticipation. She had seen the joy in her future self's face, and a rather large part of her wanted that joy.

Then she felt angry at herself (again), for two reasons: one, she was angry for feeling that; and two, a small but growing part of herself was angry that she wasn't able to feel that as a Jedi.

She had tried reciting the Jedi Code to herself, seeking the comfort she used to feel when she was taught it. But it didn't work, and in the background of her mind, she could hear Harry reciting the Sith Code.

'_Peace is a lie, there is only Passion_.'

'_Shut up!_' she thought to herself.

When the train had reached its end, she had rushed away, hoping that being away from Harry would help. It didn't. If anything, her inner conflict got worse. She was able to (slightly) distract herself by talking with Dean, Justin, and Dean's friend Seamus while in the boat.

When the boats landed, she was forced back into her thoughts and conflicts. She didn't pay attention to anything during the walk up to the castle, and didn't really notice when the ghosts arrived while all the First Years were waiting. It wasn't until she was walking down the Great Hall with her classmates that she was pulled fully from her thoughts.

A slight feeling of dread had filled her when she entered the Hall, but she had pushed it back, too focused on her thoughts to pay attention. Then the feeling multiplied tenfold, shaking her. Frowning, she focused on it, and followed it towards the staff table.

Concerned, she tried to use the Force to try and find out what was wrong, but couldn't get anything. Finally, she used her power, and couldn't contain her gasp.

Four people caught her attention. The first, and least concerning, was Darth Saeva sitting next to Professor Sinistra (she couldn't believe she was considering a Sith something not to be concerned with). Jaesa didn't linger long on her.

Then there was the Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin, Severus Snape. He was immensely biased towards his own house, and hated Gryffindor with a juvenile passion. He was also a former Death Eater, and the reason Harry's parents were dead. He was loyal to himself first, and would go to whoever seemed to be winning.

The next person that concerned her was the Headmaster himself. He was a master manipulator, with plans upon plans, all based on his version of the Greater Good. His most recent plans caught her attention. Inside the castle, he had hidden the Philosopher's Stone, an incredibly magical object that had been created by his old friend Nicholas Flamel (Flamel actually had no idea it was there). The Stone was a lure for Voldemort, who Dumbledore knew to be still alive. He intended to have Harry save the Stone from Voldemort, then pretend it was destroyed and keep it for himself. His latest modification to the plan was to implicate Saeva in the attempted theft, and have Harry placed in his care, where he would modify Harry's mind and memories to his liking.

Jaesa felt a flare of anger at the old teacher. Despite her feelings concerning the vision, he was still her friend, and she was protective of him.

The last person was by far the most terrifying. Professor Quirrell, the Defense teacher, was possessed by Voldemort himself. She could feel his anger, and his hate for Dumbledore and, most of all, Harry. He was after the Stone in order to use it to create his own body and finally get his revenge.

Jaesa glanced at Harry in worry, and saw him staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She quickly looked away, still unable to meet his eyes.

She didn't really pay any attention to the Sorting Hat or the Sorting itself, so lost in thought she was. Until, finally…

"Willsaam, Jaesa!"

Surprised, she glanced around in confusion. She noticed that most of her fellow First Years had already been Sorted, and Harry, Hermione and Draco were all sitting at the Slytherin table.

She walked up to the stool, and her vision was then covered by the Hat.

'_Hm, interesting_,' a voice said in her head.

'_Who's there?_' she asked mentally.

'_I'm the Sorting Hat, of course,_' the voice said, almost mockingly. '_Fear not, child. I am forbidden to reveal anything I see in your mind to anyone else. Now let's see. A very complicated mind you have here, my dear. And conflicted, too. Oh, yes, so much inner conflict. And all centered on the Potter boy. He was easy to place. His entire demeanor practically screamed Slytherin._

'_But that's beside the point. Let's see, plenty of courage, I see, but not blindly so. While I'm sure most of your fellow Jedi would fit in perfectly with them, I'm not sure that's the house for you. _

'_Incredibly loyal, I see, and hard-working, too. But your wish to learn all you can nearly overshadows this. Oh, yes, even among the Jedi you are considered incredibly knowledgeable. But why do you seek knowledge? Is it for the sake of knowledge itself, or is there another, hidden motivation? A desire to perfect yourself, to prove yourself. But to who? Yourself, your Jedi masters, or someone else?... _

'_Ah yes, Potter. Despite your confusion, and your Jedi upbringing, you look up to him. You want to be his equal, his… oh my. Oh yes, I do believe I have found your house. There is no other place for you, other than-' _

"SLYTHERIN!"

Jaesa took off the Hat and walked over to her new house. She decided to sit next to Draco, despite the close vicinity of Harry.

"Nice of you to join us," Harry commented. "To be honest, I would have thought you would be in Ravenclaw."

Jaesa didn't respond.

"You know, we need to get through this," Harry said, getting slightly annoyed. "Yes, the vision showed you as a Sith. Yes, I destroyed the Jedi and the Republic. Now, what are you going to do about it? Kill me?"

"No!" she cried, appalled by the thought.

"Then what?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Then until you do, get over it, and move on," Harry said.

Before she could respond at all, the Sorting ended, and Professor Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat down, and the students clapped and cheered.

Food then appeared on the platters in front of them. Harry raised his eyebrows at both the amount of food and the types of food. He understood this was a feast, but he couldn't help but think they were trying to fatten them.

'_Maybe each year they eat the fattest ones_,' he jokingly mused as he filled his plate.

"Now," he said to Jaesa. "In the name of moving on, feel like sharing what happened before the Sorting?"

Sighing, Jaesa filled her plate and explained what she had seen through her power.

"I can't believe it!" Hermione said angrily. "Dumbledore and Snape are _teachers_! How can they do this?!" Her friends noted she left out their titles when she said the teachers' names.

"Snape is petty, and Dumbledore has a god complex," Harry said casually. "Since his defeat of Grindelwald, Dumbledore's been revered as the next coming of Merlin so much he's probably come to believe it, if he didn't already believe it."

In all honesty, Harry couldn't care less about Snape. What bothered him were Dumbledore and Voldemort. He was sure that Dumbledore's plan was doomed to fail. Valarius wouldn't tolerate any attempt of his to take custody of Harry.

As they ate and talked (Jaesa seemed to be moving past her problems for the moment) Harry received a message through the Force from Saeva.

'_I will be visiting you tonight to receive your interpretation of the Code. Be ready._'

Harry mused on this as the food vanished and was replaced with dessert. He knew he would be ready for her when she came, so he wasn't worried.

"Draco," Hermione said after a moment, looking uncomfortable. "Why are our housemates glaring at us?"

Glancing around, Draco rolled his eyes.

"You and Jaesa are muggleborns," he explained. "And Harry is, well, Harry Potter." He leaned in and whispered. "Most of their parents were Death Eaters who got off, and most all Death Eaters are blood purists. I was too, until, well…" He trailed off.

Soon, the dessert vanished from the tables and Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First Years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore glanced in the direction of the Gryffindor table. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"That's where he's hiding the Stone," Jaesa whispered to the others.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

When the hall burst into uneven and chaotic song, Harry understood the other teachers' feelings on the subject. It was torture. Apparently the rest of his house agreed, if their covering their ears and groaning was anything to go by.

The song ended slowly, with a pair of redheaded twins at the Gryffindor table finishing it off with a slow funeral march (Harry actually liked that particular tune).

"Ah, music," Dumbledore said, wiping a tear from his eye. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

'_What are we, horses?_' Harry thought.

As the other houses stood and began to leave, the Slytherin table waited patiently for the rest to leave. When the hall was clear, the house stood up and walked down to the dungeons.

Down in the dungeons, they came upon Professor Snape standing by a blank stretch of wall.

He appraised them all silently before speaking.

"For the First Years, this is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room," he told them. "The password is, presently, 'Viper'."

At the password, a door etched itself into the wall and opened up.

"The password changes every two weeks," he informed them as the older years filed into the Common Room. "The new passwords will be posted on the notice board upon its change. Now go inside, but do not sit or leave for your rooms. I have a few more things to tell you all."

The First Year Slytherins filed into the room and stood in a small group as the Professor followed them. When everyone was in and the door closed, Professor Snape took a moment to gaze piercingly at the students.

"As you all know, Slytherin is despised by the rest of the school," he told them. "As such, it is necessary that we portray a united front to the school. Any disputes are to be handled within the Common Room, and anything that makes the dispute obvious to the rest of the school will be met with punishment. Any points lost will earn you a detention with me. Any detentions given by another teacher will be doubled by me. You will finish all your assignments for all of your classes. I also expect you to perform adequately in my class, and any failures in my class will be met with punishment. I will not have you defiling the proud name of Slytherin with foolish behavior." He glared at them all. Harry noted with amusement that Snape's glare seemed to linger on him.

"Now, you will each have a roommate, and you may place whatever defenses you can on your rooms until the end of the year. The names are on the doors. Potter, as per the conditions of your attendance, you will have your own room," Snape said to him, his glare deepening. "As such, Mr. Malfoy will also have his own room. Your belongings have already been brought to your rooms. Now go."

His speech finished, he turned (his black cloak billowing dramatically behind him) and swept out of the room.

'_Show off_,' Harry thought to himself as they all went to their rooms. '_Though I would like to learn how he does that. It has a potential intimidation factor._'

Crabbe and Goyle shared a room, as did Nott and Zabini. As Snape had said, both he and Draco had their own rooms. Walking into his room, he noticed that, indeed, all his belongings were there, next to a lone bed next to a window.

Harry pulled out a jagged black knife, with strange markings etched into the blade. The knife had been a gift by one of the Academy teachers who specialized in Sith Sorcery. The blade could be used as a conduit for his Force spells, which he had shown great proficiency in.

He set about carving symbols into the frame of the door, focusing the Force into each stroke of the knife. The symbols, once all were carved, would create a subtle, yet powerful protection. Any with malevolent intent would be unable to locate the door at all, and if they were able to find it, they would experience excruciating pain when they attempted to enter.

When all the runes were carved, he pressed his hand against one of the symbols and focused. The symbols all glowed with dark power, and then vanished. Satisfied, Harry walked over to his trunk, tapped the lock three times, and then opened it.

The trunk opened up and a ladder extended. Harry climbed down the ladder into the secret room. The room had various robes, armor and weapons covering the walls. Hanging on the walls were torches, lit with Force-enhanced flames, which glowed dark red. Silently, he dressed himself in Sith Robes, exchanging his school uniform for a black tunic, pants, and black leather gloves and boots (think Darth Maul's outfit from Phantom Menace, because it's awesome). He also grabbed a personal CFG (cloaking field generator).

Clipping his lightsaber to his belt and sheathing his knife, he climbed out of the compartment back into his room. Pulling the hood over his head, he activated the CFG.

Moving like a wraith, Harry left his room and made his way to the hallway with the girls' rooms. Frowning, Harry sensed a disturbance. Standing outside Jaesa and Hermione's room were several older students, most of them boys. They were preparing to enter the room to teach the 'mudblood whores' a lesson.

Reaching out with the Force, Harry seized their minds and sent them back to their rooms, making them completely forget what they were doing.

'_Weak minded fools_,' he thought.

The danger dealt with, Harry set to work carving the symbols of the Sith protection spell on the doorframe. After activating the spell, Harry made his way back to his room. He figured Draco had enough standing among their housemates to avoid any attacks.

Normally, Harry wouldn't have considered doing what he had just done. At the Academy, acolytes were expected to take care of themselves. While outright murder was explicitly forbidden, except in trials, nonlethal, yet often crippling, attacks were quite common. If an acolyte wasn't able to properly protect themselves, they weren't worth the effort of protecting. However, since the vision Harry had felt a strange sense of protectiveness for his friends, particularly Jaesa.

Harry wasn't all that surprised to find Saeva waiting for him when he returned. Her illusion was dropped, revealing her sharp red features and crimson eyes.

"Xaari," she greeted. "I hope you are ready." (*Apprentice*)

"Of course, Master," Harry responded. "The Code can be applied internally or externally. _Peace is a lie, there is only Passion. Through Passion, I gain Strength. Through Strength, I gain Power. Through Power, I gain Victory. Through Victory, my chains are Broken. The Force shall set me Free_. Internally, the Code means mastering oneself. As Sith, we embrace our emotions and passions, but too often Sith become slaves to their emotions. When one masters their emotions, they embrace them, but are not slaves to them, and become more powerful than any other Sith or Jedi. Externally, it means mastering your enemies and allies alike. When you recognize and manipulate the passions of your allies and enemies, you control the outcome of debates, arguments, and wars. To me, both of these interpretations are accurate."

Saeva gazed at Harry for a long moment. Then she shook her head.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she mused, before turning to leave. "I will inform you of your training schedule when it is ready. Until then, continue your private practice." Before she walked out the door, she examined the doorframe. "Not bad," she commented. With that, she left.

Harry had decided he would speak with Veritas about the vision before Saeva, letting his master focus on creating his training regime.

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, slipping into meditation. He had learned long ago to substitute sleep for meditation, using the Force to revitalize his mind and body. It allowed him to rest up, while still being aware of his surroundings. In an Academy where there were many people who wanted to kill him for one reason or another, this was an invaluable skill.

As he meditated, he thought of the many things he looked forward to for the year. He also thought about something that had been niggling in the back of his mind. Was there a difference between the Force and Magic? Jaesa had said that Nomen Karr couldn't get on Platform 9¾, so there just might be. He thought about potential experiments he could rung to verify this and, if there was a difference, ways to fuse them together to make them stronger. He was certain it would take longer that one year, but if he had learned anything at the Academy, it was patience. The impatient rushed it and got killed, while the patient walked over their corpses and reaped the rewards.

This year was just the beginning.

AN:

Author: So, what did you guys think? I had originally considered putting Jaesa in Ravenclaw, but decided it would be better to keep her close to Harry.

Deadpool: Mr. Whiskers wants to know when the next sex scene is. He's a horny little bugger.

Author: Well, if all goes to plan, there should be one in the next chapter. A little fun corrupting a certain metamorph.

Deadpool: Sweeet! Shapeshifters are so hot!

Author: See you guys next time! Please, leave a review! But don't flame or, well, you know the drill.


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